Can't Be Saved
by xElementFivex
Summary: Mihael was living a lie, but that all changed with one late night encounter. Mihael becomes Mello, and finds his salvation in a boy named Matt. Yaoi.
1. Outside, Looking In

**There will be angst and lots of it. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all.**

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The deep bass thump of techno music was suddenly audible as an innocuous black door was pushed open, revealing, for a few seconds, the wildly flashing lights and gyrating bodies of the dance club within. Two men made their way out of the club and onto the sidewalk, one supporting his much more inebriated partner. As they turned a nearby corner, most likely heading towards a parking garage of some sort, the less intoxicated of the two leant down to whisper something in the other's ear, earning a fit of laughter from the other man. The pair exuded an air of light-heartedness and a care-free existence. The two men were so wrapped up in the sheer pleasure of each other's company that both failed to notice as they passed by a lanky blonde teenager leaning up against the plate-glass windows of nearby storefront.

Mihael Keehl sighed and dragged the toe of one pristinely white sneaker across the gritty sidewalk as he continued to watch the two men who had just emerged from the club. They looked so … happy. Happy was not an emotion Mihael felt equipped to deal with. Contentment, maybe. Satisfaction, possibly. But happiness? He wasn't sure he had been happy in years; not since he was a small child and blissfully ignorant of the world around him.

Now Mihael didn't think these things to be melodramatic, or to get sympathy. It wasn't an angst-induced pity party. To Mihael, these were just cold, solid facts. Facts were something he could wrap his head around. Facts he could study, and pick apart, and learn from. Emotions, like happiness, those were… inherently more difficult.

Down the street, the door to the club swung open again to eject several more men in varying stages of drunkenness. Mihael tensed, half hoping the men would walk in the opposite direction from where he was standing, and half hoping they would pass him so he could study them more closely. He couldn't deny the slight feeling of disappointment when the men took the former route, presenting him with only a receding view of their backsides.

This was how it happened every time that Mihael lurked outside the club. He had never, not once in the last year and a half that he had been coming here, been able to work up the courage to enter. Sure, he had imagined it many times. In his imagination, he marched straight up to that brooding black door, pushed it open, and entered the throng of partygoers, losing himself among the lights and the sounds and the sensations of being completely, unimaginably free.

But he knew himself too well. He knew that particular scenario would never happen. Instead, he hung back in the shadows a short way down the street, heart leaping a little in excitement when the intoxicated, (and usually) beautiful men would pass him by. Then he could imagine, if only for a short while, that he was one of them. Laughing and open and free, with nothing weighing down the edges of his mind. No voices in the back of his head screaming about morality and hell and fire and brimstone.

Mihael concentrated on scraping the toe of his other sneaker across the sidewalk as well, making matching dirt stains on the white canvas. Mother would be angry. She would demand to know how he expected others to have respect for him if he didn't even have respect for his own appearance. Mother- the voice in the back of his head- was always screaming at him for something. If only she knew.

If only she knew the places Mihael frequented in his most private daydreams (and ones at night too). For that matter, if she only knew about the places he went in real life. Mother didn't even like him going into the city; he couldn't imagine her reaction if she knew of his habit of lurking outside a _gay_ bar.

Not that Mihael was gay. He wasn't, of course. Even the word felt foreign to him; it glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth and choked him a little when he said it. Mihael was most certainly not gay. Sure, he had never had a girlfriend (or been interested in any girl), but that was only because the correct one had yet to come along. But he was young, only seventeen. There was plenty of time for him still. No, Mihael was not gay- probably.

But even he, with his sizable intellect, couldn't rationalize his odd habit of staring down the patrons of the bar. He couldn't give a reason for the twinges he felt when he saw a happy couple emerge from the door, arms wrapped tight around one another. He didn't have a name for the feeling in the pit of his stomach when he watched lovers exchange looks and kisses. To be honest, he was hoping these feelings would pass in time.

Because Mihael Keehl was not _allowed_ to be gay. Mihael Keehl was a good Catholic boy, who lit candles and went to mass and prayed on his rosary. Mihael did not curse, or think impure thoughts (except on nights like tonight). He didn't skip school, he never talked back, and he had perfect grades. In short, Mihael was a dream-come-true for his- or any- very religious parents.

But oh, how Mother and Father would react if they knew his secret. That sometimes, the voice of the priest during mass was replaced in his head by another male voice, whispering suggestive things that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. And other times, when fingering a bead on his rosary, he imagined that instead he running his hands through another man's hair.

But Mihael was always quick to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. He only allowed them free reign- sort of- on nights like tonight, when he took his mother's car under the pretense of studying at a friend's house, and drove down the seedier parts of the city, all so he could hang around a night club and try to further convince himself of his own sexuality.

Mihael sighed and ran a hand through his short, blonde hair. The hand came away slightly damp with sweat, and for the first time, he noticed that his polo shirt was clinging to his skin. The month of May in Dallas, Texas. Mihael hated it. He hated the smog that hung over the otherwise beautiful city, seeming to solidify with the early summer humidity. Normally, he loved the city. The skyline was beautiful and there was never a lack of something interesting going on. But during the summer… that was a different story. The heat was oppressive and the humidity stuck to the skin and entered the lungs and clung to the city like a wet, warm blanket. Even at night, it was only slightly cooler. The brief reprieve from the sun's direct rays was never quite enough to cool down a Texas summer.

Time for some good old-fashioned air conditioning. Mihael glanced at his wristwatch. It was also time to start heading home. Mother would be upset if he wasn't home by midnight, and he didn't need to give her any reason to question his whereabouts.

He briskly made his way down the sidewalk, heading for the side street where he had parked the car, when a muffled cry reached his ears. Without stopping to think over the stupidity of entering an alley unarmed and in this section of town at night, he turned toward the source of the noise.

There was a man, no older than twenty five, lying on his side in the alley. His face and his clothes were a mess of blood, and Mihael instantly ran forward and knelt down, meaning to ask this stranger what had happened. Too late, he noticed the two other menacing figures, one with the glint of a knife in his hand, sharing the space of the alley with them.

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**Reviews? Thanks. **


	2. Eyes

**Wow, so this update has been a long time in coming. I know I probably took so long with this that no one really cares about this story anymore. But if there's anyone out there reading it still, I'll let you know that I'm going to updating this story regularly now. No more months between updates. **

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"Are you o…." The question died on Mihael's lips as he took in his situation. He stared down at the young man, and their eyes locked in a single moment of fear and confusion before the noise of shifting fabric behind him drew his attention. Mihael froze in horror, his legs tensing in their half-crouched position. His fear was so intense it was like a slap in the face; he couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

A grating voice, like sandpaper, sounded from behind him. "Well, look at this. We got ourselves another little queer." Mihael choked as a hand suddenly reached down and pulled him up violently by his collar. One of the men easily held him up by the shirt, bringing his face in so close that Mihael could smell the stink of alcohol and tobacco on his breath. A strand of the man's greasy brown hair brushed Mihael's cheek as he said, "So are you? Are you another one of those fags? Is this your little boyfriend or something?" He gestured with his foot towards the young man on the ground.

Mihael struggled feebly against the man's grip, every movement compromising his breathing with the shirt digging into his throat. His partner laughed at Mihael, stumbling drunkenly back against the wall of the alley. Mihael's thoughts raced; the two men were obviously very drunk, and they had beaten the man on the ground. What were they going to do to him? His mouth went dry with fear and he saw himself left bloody and defenseless in this alley. What would he say to his parents? Or would these two men kill him right here and now?

"Stop it!" The man holding Mihael blanched in surprise and his companion stopped laughing. The young man struggled to rise from the pavement. It was obvious he was in a great deal of pain; blood was streaming from his mouth and nose and he was holding his right arm at such an angle that there was no way it wasn't broken. But despite his injuries, he was still able to glare at the two men with such intensity that the two men fell completely silent. "Stop it!" he cried again, attempting to rise further, but with a muffled sound of pain he doubled over, holding tightly to his stomach. "He's just a kid," the young man wheezed, "Leave him alone, please!"

"Shut up, fag!" The other man, the one not holding onto Mihael, lunged forward and delivered a swift kick to the young man's face. Mihael flinched as the man's foot connected, a sick crunching noise filling the air. The young man fell back against the pavement; eyes shut tight and blood pouring from a now obviously broken nose.

They were going to kill him. He was going to die right here, in this dingy alley, seventeen and with a barely-lived life. These realizations slammed into Mihael's brain, and suddenly, Mihael snapped. A sharp, animal-like, instinctual grunt issued from his throat as he thrashed against the man's grip, flinging his arms and legs wide, attempting to twist and turn out of the hold the man had on him. The man, startled at Mihael's sudden display of violence, instinctually loosened his grip and Mihael dropped to the ground, choking and wheezing as his throat was suddenly freed. He scrambled to his feet, desperate to escape, only to feel a short, sharp pain against the small of his back.

The other man dug his foot deeper into Mihael's back, making tears come to his eyes as he stared up at the two attackers. As the one held him down with his foot, the other knelt down to talk to Mihael, his cold, grey eyes flashing with anger. "Well," he said, "you never answered my question. You one of them queers? Huh?" Mihael whimpered and then cried as nerves in his back were ground down by the other man's foot. "What do you think we should do with you, huh? I know, how about we let your little friend here go, and just kill you instead?" The man laughed cruelly.

Mihael's eyes widened in fear and he frantically tried to look around for anyone, anything that could help him. But instead, he caught sight of the young man. For the second time that night, their eyes locked, and Mihael was not prepared for what he saw in those chocolate brown eyes. In a second, hundreds of emotions flitted across the surface of the young man's face, but in his eyes Mihael saw one thing clearly. Hope. It was hope, buried deep under pain and confusion and utter terror. It was buried, but it was there. Hope that somehow, Mihael would be able to help him.

Mihael took as deep a breath as he could with the pressure on his body, and then, in a movement so sudden it caught the men completely off-guard, he flipped over under the man's foot, throwing the already unsteady man off-balance. The men shouted and both reached for him, but Mihael took off like a shot down the alley, not pausing for even a second to look back at the young man and those eyes. Those eyes, with the trembling bit of hope that Mihael had just shattered.

Mihael ran like he had never run before. He got a stitch in his side, and his breathing became shallower and shallower and still he didn't stop, didn't even slow down. He ducked around building corners, between groups of late night partiers, and across streets until he felt like there was no one following him. He skidded to a stop in the middle of a darkened, empty road, doubled over and gasping for breath. He sank to his knees, still sucking in huge lungfuls of oxygen, and then bent over even farther, flattening his palms against the ground and touching his forehead to the asphalt, in a bizarre act of supplication.

The pavement still retained some of the warmth of the day and it radiated up through his forehead and knees and the palms of his hands. He began to tremble, small shivers running up and down his body at first, until they eventually evolved into a full on body shake that he couldn't control. He pressed his hands harder against the street, gripping at it, and thinking in a moment of panic that it might be the only thing holding him down here. If he let go, he might explode or fall off, or any number of violent things.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that he was probably in shock. That he should take out his phone and call 911, or at the very least attempt to find his car and get home. But that thought was buried beneath the crushing weight of those eyes. The brown, beautiful eyes that had looked to him for help and that he had turned away, caring only for his own safety. He briefly considered calling the police and telling them about what had happened, but he had no clue where they were, or where he himself had run to in his mad dash to escape. And besides, if he called, the police would tell him parents, and he would have to explain what he had been doing down in this section of town at this hour of night. Why he had lied to them. And then they would _know._ They would know and his life would be over.

No. No, he couldn't let that happen. His hands slackened against the ground, and he let himself collapse. Oh god, what was he going to do? He had to find his car and leave. He had to go home. He had to-

A bright light flashed in his eyes, blinding him momentarily, as the screech of brakes sounded in his ears. He gasped and threw his arms up on instinct, as a red Camero skidded to a stop, inches from him.

"What the fuck?" An angry voice filled the air, along with the sound of a car door being thrown open. "What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the road you fucking idiot?" Mihael looked up towards the speaker, who was backlit by the blazing headlights. The only feature Mihael could make out was head of bright red hair, looking like flames to Mihael's dazed mind.

"I... I-" Mihael began, choking a bit on the words. "I…" And with that, Mihael's body finally gave into the stress and insanity of the night, and he promptly passed out cold.

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**If anyone is still enjoying this story, please drop me a review and let me know what you think. **

**Thanks so much. =]**


	3. Meeting By the Wayside

**Here it is: Chapter Three. I hope you guys like it. =]**

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"Do you think he's crazy? Or homeless? Or both?"

"No, Matt. Judging from his clothes, I would guess that he is not homeless. Although lying in the street in front of oncoming traffic does suggest a certain amount of insanity."

"What do you think happened to him? He's all scraped up and covered in dirt."

"I could not hazard a guess."

"Well, do you think he's gonna be alright? I mean, he just passed out. Should we call the police or something?"

As the last phrase registered in Mihael's sluggish brain his eyes shot open and he shook his head furiously from side to side. "Don't!" His voice sounded weak and unfamiliar to his own ears, and his eyes were blurry. He blinked several times in a row, trying to clear them and slowly a face swam into view above him.

And what a face it was. Thick, tousled red hair and strong cheekbones leading down to a gently curved jaw, creating a look that was more feminine than Mihael had expected after hearing his voice. Mihael gazed at the subtly defined lips, which were currently pulled into a tight grimace, before pulling his gaze upward and taking in the most gorgeous pair of eyes he had ever seen. Green, like a forest, but with flecks of brown, and surrounded by thick lashes. At the moment, those beautiful eyes were full of concern and-

Oh god. With a jolt to his brain like an electric shock, a pair of brown eyes flashed through his memory. Mihael flung himself straight up into a sitting position, smacking the top of his head against the beautiful stranger's chin.

"Shit!" The boy grabbed the lower half of face, massaging his jawline intently. "Holy crap kid, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you okay?"

"I… I-" Mihael started to speak and then paused. What should he say? Was he okay?

"Oh god, not that again," the boy groaned. "Listen, do you need me to call you an ambulance or something? Are you hurt, or are you just fucked up on something? Either way, I'll help you, but it would be nice to know what the hell is going on."

"…No," Mihael finally managed to spit out. "No, I don't need an ambulance. And I'm not on drugs."

"Ah, it speaks," the other boy said sarcastically. "Now listen, um…" He cocked his head to side, waiting for Mihael to give him his name.

"Mihael," he said quietly.

"Okay Mihael," the boy answered. "I'm Matt, and this is Near." Matt gestured over to another boy that Mihael hadn't noticed- though now he realized that must have been the other voice he heard earlier- crouching on the road a few feet away. While he wasn't as beautiful as Matt, this other boy had a strange air about him that intrigued Mihael. His hair was so blonde it appeared white, and his eyes had a funny, far away look in them.

"Hello," Near bobbed his head in Mihael's direction. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Umm… you too," Mihael responded automatically. The thought struck him again that there was something strange about Near. He didn't give off the feeling of immediate familiarity that Matt did. If anything, he actually made Mihael slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay," Matt continued, frowning even deeper, and for a second the thought crossed Mihael's mind that he didn't like the way that looked. He didn't want to see this stranger frowning, not even for a second. It marred his beautiful features. Mihael quickly shook the thought from his head. What the hell was he thinking? He had just met the guy. "So you're not hurt, and you're not on drugs…so why the hell were you lying in the middle of the fucking road, Mihael? You almost made me crash my car to avoid hitting you."

"I was… just… I was…," Mihael trailed off, looking down at his scratched hands. "It's nothing."

"Okay, fine," Matt sighed. "It's late, so I'll pretend to believe that bullshit answer and- What? What's the matter?"

Mihael jumped up, interrupting Matt and stumbled slightly as the world spun a bit. His body was still feeling the stress of the day. "What time is it?" Mihael cried, reaching frantically into his back pocket for his cell phone and hoping against hope that it wasn't too late. If it wasn't past eleven thirty at least then he could still make it home in time if he sped. He didn't even want to contemplate having to face his parents if he was late. How could he explain any of this? He had to keep his secret; it was the most important thing to do. His scrambling fingers finally latched onto his phone and he pulled it out, flipping it open. Eleven fifteen. Mihael closed the phone slowly, hands trembling from the surge of adrenaline, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"For the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes: _Are you okay?"_ Mihael turned his gaze towards Matt, who had jumped up at the same time he had.

"I'm fine," Mihael answered, "But… do you think you could give me a ride to my car?"

"Hmmph!" Matt snorted and looked pointedly over at Near. "Well how 'bout that Near? Kid almost makes us crash by acting like a dumbass out in the middle of the road, then he won't give even the tiniest fucking explanation of how he got there, and _now he wants a ride?_ Geez, he's damn lucky I'm such an understanding guy." Matt raised his eyebrows, but Near simply met him with an unreadable, deadpan gaze. Matt sighed. "I'm just too fucking nice. Get in the car, both of you." And with that, the red-head spun on his heel and headed to his car.

Mihael scrambled to follow, and quickly deposited himself in the backseat directly behind Matt. Near slid quietly into the front passenger seat and immediately pulled one leg up to his body and fixed his blank stare on the dashboard. Mihael glanced quizzically over at him before turning to Matt and giving him the name of the cross-streets nearest to where he had parked. The short ride was silent, with Matt and Near staring straight ahead out of the car, and Mihael staring at the both of them. Now that his brain wasn't swimming with confusion, he had time to wonder about the two that had picked him up. They were both attractive (although in Near's case, it was hard to figure out just what it was that made me so intriguing) and they were in this section of town late at night. Were they… could they be like Mihael? Maybe they were… gay? Except that Mihael wasn't gay; he quickly shoved that thought away. He wasn't gay, and besides, why the hell was he even thinking about that right now? It wasn't like he was ever going to see these two again. It was probably best not to worry about it.

But Mihael couldn't stop wondering, even as Matt deposited him in front of his car, and Mihael mumbled a hurried thank you to the two boys. They probably thought he was some kind of freak. He really should have given them some kind of explanation, or something. But he wasn't even sure he could explain this evening to himself, let alone to anyone else. The entire drive home wasn't even enough to sort out his muddled thoughts. There was simply too much in his brain to make sense of it all the moment.

He made it home quickly and said a prayer for small favors when he slipped quietly in the back door and saw that all the lights were off. That meant that Mother and Father were asleep, or at the very least, in their room for the night. He very much doubted that Mother was actually sleeping; not until she heard him return for the night. He was sure if he had been even one minute past midnight, she would have been up and calling everyone she knew to find out where he was.

Mihael made his way into his bedroom and threw himself face down on his bed, pausing only to shut the door securely behind him. He stayed that way for a long time, breathing in the scent of laundry soap from the comforter, before he finally sat back up. It had been a long night, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next thousand years or so. Maybe if he slept, than he could pretend that none of this had ever happened. That he hadn't soullessly abandoned someone the way he had. That he hadn't been such a despicable coward. Mihael reached down to pull off his shoes, and immediately felt sick. There, on the bottom of his once-white shoes, was a small streak of something unmistakable. He felt tears come unconsciously to his eyes as he stared at the red smear. Blood.

As he gazed down at the shoe in his hand, he imagined that somehow those brown eyes stared back at him, no longer hopeful but accusatory. _How could you leave me like this?_

A small sob escaped from Mihael's throat as he threw the offending item across the room, not caring what he destroyed in the process.

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**Any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms would be welcomed with open arms. Letting me know what you think will hopefully improve the future chapters. **

**To give my previous overworked beta a break, this was beta-ed by the lovely Jeevas' Opheliac.**


	4. Word On the Street

**And we begin to have some plot. **

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Tearing down the pavement, breath coming in sharp, short bursts; Mihael ran faster than he ever had in his life. Hot beads of sweat trickled steadily down the sides of his face and perspiration glued his shirt to his body. As he ran, the wind threw dirt and bits of grime into his eyes, making them burn. But still he ran; past streets and alleys and houses and people, with the sounds of his pursuers' footsteps growing louder every second.

He had to get away, to go faster or else they were going to catch him. And if they did, they would kill him. They would beat him until he was a mass of blood and broken bones, crying and moaning in the street. _'No!' _Mihael thought, '_No, it can't end like this!" _He lowered his head and put on a fresh burst of speed even though his lungs felt close to bursting. _'Just a little more. A little farther and I can lose them!'_

Then, as he skirted around an empty storefront, it happened. He felt his foot catch on some unseen object, perhaps a stretch of broken sidewalk, or the edge of the curb. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. All the mattered was that he had failed, they were going to catch him. A million thoughts ran through his brain as his momentum propelled him down onto the ground, smashing his chin against the cement and biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood. The sound of feet pounding along the pavement grew closer and closer until they were almost on him. Mihael squeezed his eyes shut. This was it; this was the end.

Except that nothing happened. No fists came crashing into the back of his skull, no shoes rammed into his back. Mihael struggled in vain to listen for any sound that would indicate they were still there over his own labored breathing. He could hear nothing. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed himself warily off the ground and turned to look.

Mihael screamed, a sound of utter, unadulterated terror, and threw his arms up to protect himself and-

His eyes snapped open as the alarm clock above his bed let out a shrill screech and clattered down onto his head.

"A dream?" he murmured, reaching up absentmindedly to replace the clock. He ran a hand through his hair and winced at a stinging pain in his palms. He held his hands out in front of him and was shocked to see little half-moons of blood dotting his palms. He had been unconsciously digging his nails into his own flesh as he slept.

Mihael slowly curled his fingers, making his hands into fists, and brought them to lie in his lap. He couldn't shake the feeling of horror from his nightmare. And it didn't help that this was the second night in a row it had occurred. It had been three days since the confrontation in the alley and his meeting with the two strange boys but still Mihael couldn't stop thinking about it. He couldn't escape, not even in his sleep. All day he thought of Matt. Matt, with his warm, wry smile and his genuine concern. He even thought to some extent of Near and of those cold, calculating, gray eyes. But contemplations like that were tolerable. They weren't what was making him lose sleep and wake up in a cold sweat every few hours.

It was the damn nightmare, the same one he had been having since that night. He ran and ran and ran, but no matter how fast he was, the two men were always right behind him, ready to tear him apart at any moment. And just when Mihael thought he could finally get away, he would trip or stumble and end up on the ground. He would turn- and instead of seeing his attackers- he would see the young man with the deep brown eyes. Only now he looked different. Bruised and bloodied beyond almost all recognition, but with eyes that shone through the gore. Eyes that screamed at Mihael. _Why? Why didn't you help me?_

It always ended the same way as well. The young man would reach out one scraped and bloodied hand towards Mihael and then- Mihael would wake up, drenched in sweat, whimpering and frightened. It was ridiculous. He was seventeen years old, he shouldn't be having nightmares like a child.

He berated himself for not being able to control his own mind while he was getting ready for school. He went through the motions of taking a shower and brushing his teeth on autopilot all while having a mental battle with himself. He _could _control these nightmares. He had to. They were getting out of hand.

He made his way quietly down the stairs to the breakfast table, making sure to hide his abused palms as he poured himself a glass of water. As usual, Mother was standing at the stove, humming while she scrambled eggs and flipped bacon. Father sat at the table, flipping quietly through the newspaper. Mihael concentrated on buttering a piece of toast and had gotten halfway through eating it before he saw something that made his heart stop in chest. He choked on the bit of toast in his mouth and made a coughing, hacking noise in his throat so loud that Mother stopped cooking and Father peered over the edge of the newspaper.

"Are you alright, Mihael?" Mother asked, concerned written all over her delicate features. It was from her that Mihael had inherited his blonde hair, blue eyes and the gentle curve of his jaw. Her blue eyes searched quickly for signs of fever or something of the sort.

"I- I'm fine," Mihael said as he coughed, "Father… would you… mind if I looked at the paper when you're done?"

Father beamed, his own hazel eyes full of good nature. He absent-mindedly smoothed back his graying hair before answering, "Absolutely! Mihael, is it possible you're finally showing an interest in current events? It's about time you did! Here, why don't you take it right now, I've got to finish getting ready for work anyway." Father folded the paper in half and handed it to Mihael before disappearing to the back of the house to put on his tie and gather his briefcase for the day.

"Mihael, I suggest you read quickly or you'll be late to school. And don't think I don't want to talk to you about how late you got home last night, young man."

"Yes, Mother," Mihael answered, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Mother made a small sound of approval in the back of her throat before turning back to the stove.

The other half of his toast completely forgotten, Mihael flipped frantically through the paper, hoping that he was wrong about what he thought he had caught a glimpse of. _'Please, please, please, let me be wrong. Please,' _Mihael pleaded silently. Finally he found the article he was looking for. His eyes grew wide as he skimmed quickly over the black and white print, and the paper quivered as his hands began to shake. Words and phrases seemed to jump off the page and sear themselves into his brain as he read. _Murder victim…beaten… no suspects… downtown… 22 year old college student… any information, please contact police…_

Mihael felt the unpleasant sensation of bile rising at the back of his throat and he realized there was no way to avoid it. He threw the paper down and made a mad dash for the bathroom, ignoring Mother's concerned calls after him. Slamming the door shut behind him, he threw himself down in front of the toilet, retching the toast along with the rest of the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl.

He slumped to the floor and stayed that way for a long time, forehead resting against the cool tile. The position he found himself in reminded him of _that _night, lying in the street. He felt his whole body begin to tremble again and tears came unbidden to his eyes. He had no clue what he was going to do. He had no doubt in his mind that that article had been about the young man in the alley. It was the right day and the right part of town. Should he go to the police? But even if he did, what could he tell them? Or would he himself get into trouble for running, and not calling immediately? He had never been so confused and unsure in his life.

But maybe… there was at least one thing he could do. One thing he _had_ to do. The article had mentioned a memorial service, the following afternoon. He would go, he decided. And then, then he would decide what to do.

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**Beta-ed once again by Jeevas' Opheliac. Please, please let me know what you think with a review! **


	5. Dawn On A Funeral Day

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 5. This one's a bit longer than usual.**

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Mihael adjusted the tie on his school uniform anxiously. For the umpteenth time he wished he had thought to bring a change of clothes with him. But as it was he had just barely had time to make it across town to the memorial service after his last class. And now, standing on the steps of the unimposing little chapel, he felt woefully conspicuous and out of place in his maroon blazer and blue tie among all the mourners in black.

He swallowed nervously, wanting to put off entering the church as long as possible. Instead, he turned his gaze to the double doors, which were propped open to admit the crowd. The service was scheduled to begin in five minutes but there were still dozens of people making their way through the doors. Considering how many people he had seen since he arrived and taking into account the people who were already seated inside, Mihael realized that whoever this young man had been, he had certainly been popular. For some reason, that made him feel even worse.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Mihael realized that the crowd had all but dispersed and two black suited ushers were pulling the heavy wooden doors shut. He quickly climbed the rest of the stairs and slid through the doors before they closed. Once inside, his eyes widened in surprise. The chapel was almost full. Every pew was crowded with people and there were even some standing in the back and along the sides. He glanced around, hoping to find a spot where not too many people would notice him. There was a single empty space on the end of a pew in the back row. Mihael made his way hurriedly to the spot, taking the handout that the usher held out to him as he passed.

Once he was seated, Mihael clutched at his backpack nervously. He felt stupid, carrying a backpack into a funeral, but he had a calculator, among other things, inside and didn't feel comfortable leaving it in the car. His attention was drawn from his discomfort as the murmurs of the crowd suddenly ebbed away. A white-haired minister in a simple black robe with a white and blue stole draped over his shoulders made his way slowly to the front of the room to stand on the single step before the altar. It was a polished, wooden affair and a simplistic dark cross hung on the wall behind it. It wasn't anything like the ornate, heavy feeling of mass he was used to at his own church. But he liked it. It somehow made him feel at ease

The minister opened his mouth and began to speak. Mihael listened without really hearing what was said; he was too busy gazing around the room. There was a remarkable variety of people in the church. From the young to the old, the conservative to the outright wild, yet every face held the same look of sadness. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He might have prevented this. The thought was almost too much to bear. He was startled as, all at once, the crowd bowed their heads and closed their eyes. The minister continued on with his prayer at the front and Mihael took the opportunity to furtively glance over the bowed heads towards the front pew, where the family was sitting. He knew that watching them would only make him feel worse, but somehow he felt he had to. It was self punishment of the worst possible kind.

He felt another stab of guilt as he looked at the family. The mother, dark-haired and dark-eyed, wept quietly into her handkerchief and the father, a large man with greying hair and a mustache, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but all the familiar gesture did was cause her tears to flow faster. Sitting beside the mother was ,what Mihael assumed to be, the young man's teenage sister. She had dark hair like her mother's, but she wore it long and straight. But what really caught Mihael's attention was the young man next to her. Mihael could tell immediately that he wasn't related to the rest of them, but then why was he sitting in the family pew? He was possibly the most interesting looking person Mihael had ever seen. He had long, spiky black hair that looked as though it hadn't seen a brush in months, and his skin was as pale as a ream of paper. He looked uncomfortable and fidgety in his black suit. As Mihael stared, suddenly the odd-looking young man lifted his head, turned and looked directly at Mihael.

Mihael jumped a bit in surprise. The young man had eyes as perplexing as the rest of him; deep and black, ringed with dark shadows. As his harsh gaze met Mihael's, he felt sweat break out all over his body. Suddenly he felt like his tie was choking him. The tiny chapel, which had seemed so inviting and comforting earlier, now felt stuffy and claustrophobic. He had to get out _now, _before he suffocated to death.

Ignoring the pointed looks he was getting from the people in the back, he snatched up his backpack and handout and practically sprinted out the doors. Only when he was outside, and sucking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, did he feel any less panicked. As the oxygen reached his brain, he calmed down a little and began to think. What the hell had that all been about? One look from some stranger and he had turned tail and run out the door. He had always prided himself on being calm and collected, and now, in the space of a few short days, he had become a trembling, pathetic mess. He staggered over to the edge of the steps and sat down heavily on one, putting his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. Now that he was completely panic-free, he felt utterly stupid for running out and disrupting the service like that. He was so busy mentally berating himself that he didn't notice the sound of footsteps as someone came up behind him, nor did he notice when that person plunked themselves down on the step a few feet down from him. He only realized he wasn't alone when the person spoke, startling him and making him pull his head away from his hands.

"You shouldn't hang out around so many queers, ya know. I hear it's catching. Nice boy like yourself; if you're not careful, you might turn into one." Mihael recognized the deep baritone at once, and barely had to glance to confirm the person's identity. It was Matt. The one person he had been unconsciously hoping to see and the one person he had never expected to run into here, of all places.

Despite the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach at this unexpected meeting, Matt's words still caught Mihael off-guard, and he spluttered, searching for a reply, feeling his face grow hot under the redhead's cool gaze.

Matt gave him a small, wry smile. "Chill, dude." He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of pocket and tapped one out. He held it between his lips and lit it with practiced ease, snapping the small lighter shut and replacing it and the cigarettes before saying, "It's okay. You don't have to be so anxious, I can tell you're already flying a little rainbow flag of your own, aren't you?"

"No!" Mihael all but shouted, shaking his head frantically. "No, that's not… I… I mean…" Matt raised a cynical eyebrow and took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ashes to one side. Mihael sighed and said quietly, "How did you know?"

"We can smell our own."

Mihael tried in vain to cover his look of surprise, "You're… gay?" It was almost too good to be true.

Matt snorted. "Did you look around before you freaked out and ran? Yeah, don't give me that look. I saw you, everyone saw you. Half the gay community of the Dallas area is that church. If anyone ever wanted to take out all the gays at once, now would be the perfect time to do it." He chuckled quietly at his own off-colour joke.

Mihael didn't laugh. He hadn't even really processed the words Matt had just said; he was still too busy reveling in the information that Matt was gay. That meant that maybe, just maybe Mihael could… no, that would never work. As much as he was drawn to this boy, there was still absolutely, positively, no way that Mihael would ever be allowed to be gay. Things like that simply didn't exist in Mother and Father's world.

"So why are you here, Mihael?"

"Huh?" Mihael eyes darted in panic over to Matt. Did Matt somehow know? Did he know about that men and Mihael's running away. That's why he had asked; he knew that Mihael had no right to be here, no right to mourn with the others when he was indirectly the cause of all their misery.

"I mean, how did you know him?" Matt gestured toward the crumpled handout that was now sitting in Mihael's lap. Mihael picked it up, smoothing the wrinkled paper, and swallowing a quick bit of shame as the he looked for the first time at the picture on of the young man on it. There was a short obituary printed beneath the picture, barely even a pages worth of words to sum up an entire life.

"I um… met him one time. I didn't really know him that well," Mihael mumbled, still gazing at the picture. "But he uh…," he remembered the young man crying out selflessly for the two men to not hurt him, trying to protect him even though they had never met and he was himself in a dire situation, "he seemed like a good guy."

"Yeah," Matt stubbed out the last of his cigarette against the lip of the step, "Light was a pretty good guy. He could be a bit uptight at times, but he was always nice. He had a real good sense of right and wrong, ya know? Always thought there should be more justice in the world. He was determined to make it happen too." Matt fell silent, reflecting.

"How did you know him?" asked Mihael, genuinely curious. Matt spoke as if he had known him well. "You seem pretty close."

"Close enough," Matt answered. "He was like a brother-in-law. Sort of." Mihael cocked his head to the side, unsure of what to make of Matt's confusing statement. Matt caught his look and tried to explain more thoroughly, "Did you notice a really pale guy in the front row in there before you spazzed? Black hair, dark eyes… looked really uncomfortable in a suit?" Mihael nodded, cringing a bit in his head at the memory of the man's gaze. "That's L. He was Light's boyfriend. In case you hadn't noticed by now, Light was gay and very vocal in the gay community, hence all the gay people in there. Light thought there was a shockingly inadequate treatment of the gay community in Dallas. And he was right, but I digress." Matt took a breath. "Anyway, you remember Near?" Mihael nodded. "That's L's younger brother; check out the resemblance in the eyes. And since I was usually with Near, I got to know Light pretty well through L. If that makes any sense," he concluded in a rush of breath.

Mihael sat silently, processing the information. "So," he began, unsure of what to say first. Finally, he settled on the statement that bothered him the most. "Are you and Near… uh, are you two… I mean, ya know…"

Matt raised his eyebrow again, smirking slightly.

"…boyfriends?" Mihael finished, feeling his face flush.

"Hmmm," Matt chucked a little, "friends, boyfriends, lovers, acquaintances… I don't really know, to be honest. I suppose it depends on the day of the week." Mihael looked down at the ground, frowning, not wanting to meet Matt's eyes. "It's a weird relationship when you think about it, I guess," Matt continued. "But he gets me and I get him. So it works." He shrugged, and then suddenly, as if he had sensed his presence, Matt turned over his shoulder to acknowledge the person who had just slipped through the doors and was now staring at them. "Hey Near," he said. Near didn't reply, instead casting a stony glance at Mihael, the unchanging expression in his eyes (which he noticed looked a lot like L's, now that Matt had pointed it out) making Mihael squirm uncomfortably. Thankfully, Near moved his gaze away from Mihael to give Matt a quick look. Matt must have somehow seen a message in that look that Mihael didn't quite pick up on; almost like the two had a secret language. Mihael felt a small pang of jealousy deep in his stomach.

Near turned and, just as quietly as he had appeared, slipped back through the doors into the church. Matt stood, and held out his hand to help Mihael stand as well. The red head made to head up the stairs and follow Near into the church, but then appeared to think better of it and turned back to Mihael. He glanced at Mihael's backpack and said, "Hey, you gotta pen in that thing?"

Mihael nodded, and rooted through one of the outside pockets to pull out a ballpoint pen and handed it to Matt. Matt surprised him by grabbing his right hand and tugging it toward himself. The red head pulled the cap off the pen with his teeth and quickly scrawled a number along the back of Mihael's hand. "There," he said, once he had replaced the cap. "That's my cell number. I've always got it on me, so feel free to call me anytime, okay?"

Mihael looked up, afraid he was about to blush again, and asked, "Why'd you give me your number?"

Matt smiled wryly. "Because I'm a nice guy, and to be honest… you look like you could use a friend right now." Without giving Mihael a chance to reply, he bounded up the steps and disappeared into the church. Mihael watched as the doors shut softly behind him, and then looked down at his hand, a small smile creeping onto his face. Perhaps today hadn't been as awful as he had anticipated.

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	6. Surprise Visit

**This is going to be the last short chapter. After this, they get more in depth Enjoy!**

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"Hey, little buddy! Long time, no see."

Mihael blinked several times, trying to reassure himself that he wasn't imagining the sight in front of him. But every time he opened his eyes it stayed the same: The very person that Mihael had been doing his best to forget about for the past two weeks was now lounging nonchalantly against his Camero in front of Mihael's school. Mihael stared, and he wasn't the only one. Whether it was the bright red car, Matt's grungy, street-punk outfit, or the cigarette he was lighting up, he was conspicuous as a cardinal among a flock of doves.

"What are you doing here? And how did you know where I go to school?" Mihael asked, stepping closer to Matt, his voice coming out a tad harsher than he had meant it to. But perhaps it was for the best. If he was mean, Matt wouldn't want to be around him anymore. And as much as a part of Mihael wanted desperately to be around Matt and get to know him, another part screamed that it was hopeless. Matt already had a boyfriend.

And besides, every time Mihael looked at that red hair, or those gorgeous green eyes, he remembered that night. Matt brought back memories that Mihael didn't really want to deal with. Mostly because he had still done nothing. Every day he fought with himself about whether or not to go to the police. They had had no leads on the murder case and every day the chance to bring the two men to justice got further and further away.

Matt, however, seemed blissfully unaware of the harsh tone in Mihael's voice, and completely ignorant of the storm brewing inside Mihael's brain. "Well," he answered cheerfully. "I got sick of waiting for you to call. I don't give my number out to just anyone, ya know. I figured if you won't contact me, I'd have to go to you." His voice suddenly became more serious and a steely look entered his eyes. "I don't let people just slip away from me. I can't stand people just up and leaving." For just a moment, so quickly that Mihael almost missed it, it seemed like he was no longer seeing Mihael and the school, but was instead looking deep into some better-forgotten memory. But then the moment passed, and he said in a much lighter tone, "So I guess once you meet me, you're stuck with me for a long time." He grinned playfully. "Oh and to answer your second question, I knew which school to come to because you were wearing your school uniform at the memorial service the other day. Nice tie, by the way."

Mihael flushed, and quickly loosened the ugly, blue tie. "It's required," he mumbled. "But how did you know _which_ school to come to? There are a lot of private high schools in this area."

"I know," Matt replied seriously, "I drove around every private school in town today, looking to see if I could find the one with this uniform." He laughed at the thoroughly disturbed look Mihael gave him. "Chill, dude. No need to look so freaked. I'm just messing with ya. I knew a kid that used to go here. In fact, if I recall correctly, I used to make fun of his tie too."

"Oh." Mihael nodded in understand, all the while thinking that he really didn't understand Matt at all. He was so different than anyone he had ever met. Relaxed, and carefree, and completely, totally unpredictable.

And he was also so very unavailable.

An awkward, yet still oddly comfortable silence passed between the two, with Matt concentrating on lighting up another cigarette and Mihael staring down at the ground to avoid meeting Matt's gaze. The crowd of teenagers exiting the school had slowed, and the parking lot was now mostly empty, only a few stragglers left, walking in twos and threes with the occasional teacher among them.

"So…," Matt said finally. "You okay? I'm… sorry if I freaked you out. I forget that most people aren't as comfortable around strangers as I am. Near says I'm too overbearing. Guess it's something I need to work on, huh?" He gave a small nervous chuckle, the first sign of anything even remotely resembling self-consciousness Mihael had seen from him. And for a second, he resented Near for saying things like that and making Matt feel that way, but then he shoved the thought away. As much as he wanted to, he knew he had no right to judge Near just because he had the one boy Mihael had ever really wanted. That just wasn't fair to Near, and he knew it. But that didn't mean he couldn't still be just a little bit jealous.

"I'm fine," Mihael answered, trying his best to give Matt a reassuring smile. "You just caught me off-guard. That's all." Mihael felt a small rush of warmth in his chest when Matt visibly perked up. All traces of self-doubt disappearing from his face and his usual, jovial smile dominating his features once more.

"So, what do you wanna do," he asked energetically, bounding forward and taking hold of Mihael's arm to drag him over to his car. "I don't have to be at work until six, so the next two hours are completely yours."

"Um, I'm not really sure I can…" Mihael trailed off. He really wanted to go somewhere with Matt. But there was no way Mother would let him just go off with someone she had never met. And it wasn't like he could exactly introduce Matt to her. Matt was just too loud, too obvious, too… e_verything._Matt was the exact opposite of everything Mother thought a teenage boy should be. But to Mihael, Matt was perfect. "Let me call Mother," he finally said, pulling out his cell phone and walking briskly away. He didn't really want Matt to overhear his conversation, especially when he was going to have to lie to Mother. He didn't really know how to explain to Matt that he just _couldn't _let his parents know about him.

"Mihael, sweetie. You're usually home from school by now, where are you?" Mother barely waited for him to say hello before she began to speaking.

"I'm still at school, Mother," Mihael replied, taking a deep breath. He hated lying to her. No matter how many times he had done it, every time still made him nervous. He broke out in a cold sweat and his stomach churned. He felt sure she could hear his guilt in his voice. "I… have a science project to finish with Gevanni," he said, naming the first classmate he could think of. He just prayed that Mother wouldn't be talking to Gevanni's parents any time soon. "I'll be home by six, I promise."

"Okay," Mother sounded uncertain. "I do wish you would tell me these sort of things sooner, Mihael. It's quite inconsiderate to just spring things like this on me. Really, I don't know what you were thinking."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, "It won't happen again."

"Good," she said. "Now be careful. And make sure you're home on time!"

"Yes, Mother," he replied before hanging up and turning to head back to Matt.

"So," Matt said, after they had both slid into the front seats, "this is a Catholic school right?" He nodded his head back at the school building as he fiddled with a knob on the stereo.

"Yeah, it is."  
"So… you're Catholic, then?"

Mihael sighed. "Very."

"Well," said Matt, finally settling on a rock station, and turning the volume low so he could continue talking. He put the car in gear and sped quickly out of the parking lot. His driving was just like his personality. A little too fast and a lot unpredictable. "That explains it, I guess."

"Explains what?"

"You," Matt glanced from the road to Mihael, who was sitting, clutching his backpack in his lap. "You and that walk-in closet thing you've got going on."

"Walk-in closet?"

"You know. You're in the closet. About your sexuality." When Mihael tried to argue with him, Matt said loudly, "Do you like girls?" Mihael shook his head. "Do you like boys?" Mihael hesitated, and then nodded very slowly. "Then I'm sorry to tell you dude, but you're gay. But I'm guessing you already knew that, but I guess being so Catholic means you feel the need to hide it."

"I guess you're right, for the most part," Mihael said, "I just don't really get why you were talking about a walk-in closet."

"You know," Matt said, scratching the back of his head with one hand, "If you're in the closet, it means you're gay and you're just not admitting it. And from what I can tell, you're really deep in the closet… so I said walk-in closet cause, ya know, those are really big closets and you're… Okay, don't give me that look. I know, my analogy sucks."

Mihael laughed, and Matt stared for a second before joining in with a chuckle that Mihael was quickly beginning to recognize as Matt's signature way of laughing. It felt good; being here in Matt's car, no destination, just laughing. _'If only,' _he thought, '_It could be like this all the time.'_

"I know," said Matt suddenly, grinning. "How 'bout we go to my house, huh? I wanna introduce you to my mom."

Mihael nodded an affirmative and Matt quickly changed lanes, speeding up now that he had a destination in mind. Mihael looked out the window at the neighborhoods rushing by. He was going to meet Matt's mother. He figured he should have been nervous. _'Whatever,' _he thought, _'Everything is changing so fast. I just hope I can keep up._

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	7. The Ties That Bind

**You guys, I'm loving writing this story. Thanks for sticking with me!**

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Matt's house wasn't anything like he had expected. Mihael couldn't stop himself from staring at Matt, then at the house, then back at Matt before hetossed his backpack into the back seat and then got out of the car. The house just didn't seem to fit his personality at all. It was a large, two story affair in a fairly ritzy, gated community on the other side of town. The outer walls were laid with brick and the yard was green and well trimmed, complete with a little flagstone walkway and a flower bed spilling over with petunias next to the front door.

Mihael glanced again at Matt as the red head shuffled the keys on his key ring, looking for the house key. Try as he might, he just couldn't reconcile this picture perfect urban dream house with the teenager standing in front of it. He wondered if the inside was as orderly as the outside as Matt finally located his key and slid it into the lock.

"Home, sweet home," he said, holding the door open to let Mihael inside. Mihael stepped across the threshold, and in that instant, any doubts he may have had about Matt belonging there vanished. The interior of the house didn't match the exterior at all, not even close. It was like comparing the sun and the moon.

From where he was standing, Mihael could see into through the small entryway, and into the massive living room, and beyond that, the staircase that led, presumably, to the second floor. There were books and magazines and what looked like children's toys strewn across every available piece of furniture. A laundry basket, full of half-folded clothes spilled over onto the coffee table, and Mihael counted no less than eleven pairs of shoes next to the door, all in varying sizes. He looked at Matt, unable to hide the questioning look on his face.

Matt gave a light chuckle, "Yeah, it's a bit of non sequitur, isn't it? Not exactly what you'd expect just by looking at the place."

Mihael opened his mouth to answer, but before he got the first syllable out, something small, fast, and exceptionally blonde slammed into him at thigh level. He let out an 'oomph' and staggered back against the door.

"Hey, hey, hey," Matt said with a smile, before reaching down to pick up the little girl that had just bowled Mihael over. He slung her over his shoulder with a practiced ease while she shrieked with laughter. "I don't attack your friends, so it's not nice to attack mine. Now where's Mom?"

The girl, blonde hair falling all over hair face, replied, "Suzy's in the kitchen makin' dinner. Now put me down!" She pounded on Matt's back with her tiny fists. "Come on Matty! Put me downnnnnnn!"

"Okay, okay," he laughed and set her upright on the carpet. She stuck her tongue out at him before turning and running into another room off the living room that Mihael couldn't see.

"Who was-" Mihael began, but Matt answered him before he could finish the question.

"That was Misa. She's cute but she can be a brat. Come on," he waved Mihael forward to the kitchen, "come meet my Mom."

"You and your sister don't look anything alike," Mihael mused out loud as he followed him.

"Nope," Matt laughed. "Not one bit. Hi Mom." He directed the last two words at a slight, dark-haired woman standing in front of the stove. She turned to greet him, a ladle in her hand, and the gesture reminded Mihael so strongly of Mother he was taken aback. Here, in this house which was nothing like his, with this woman looked nothing like Mother, he was reminded of something from his own life. It almost wasn't fair. Matt, and his whole world, they were like an escape for Mihael, and he didn't want to be reminded.

"Hey sweetheart," Matt's mother gave him a wide smile, and Mihael noticed that her facial features looked nothing like Matt's either. For that matter, she had dark hair and eyes, completely opposite of Matt's vibrant red locks and green eyes. She looked over at Mihael, still smiling. "And who's this? I'm surprised to see someone other than Near." Mihael felt a small, unwelcome twinge of jealousy in his stomach.

"This is Mihael," Matt said. "Near said he was busy today. We're gonna be up in my room for awhile, okay?" When he spoke to her, Mihael heard none of the formalness that he usually felt when he spoke to Mother. The atmosphere in this house was so comfortable it almost made him want to cry when he thought about his own.

"That's fine," she said. "I'll call you two when dinner's ready."

"Can't," replied Matt. "I've got work at six and I've gotta take Mihael home before that." He gave her an apologetic look.

"Fine, fine," she said, turning back to the stove, "but you've got to eat dinner with the rest of the family at least one night this week, Matt. We're starting to think you don't like us anymore." She gave a small chuckle that instantly reminded Mihael of Matt.

"I promise, Mom," he reached out to touch her on the shoulder, before turning to Mihael and leading him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The upstairs was just as messy as the rest of the house, and as they were going down the hallway, two boys, both with brown hair, went tearing past them and ran down the stairs, yelling at the top of their lungs.

Before Mihael could ask, Matt said, "Well this is it," and gestured to a door in the hallway. He pushed it open and led Mihael in. It was exactly what Mihael pictured when he thought of Matt. The walls and ceiling were covered in posters and bits of paper, everything from magazine articles to the concert fliers. The room was messy, but not unbearably so. The one thing that drew Mihael's attention though, was a computer in the corner. Compared to everything else, it was in pristine condition. It looked new-ish and well cared for. Electrical cords snaked behind it and there were several other pieces of technology lying around that Mihael couldn't even begin to identify. He had the feeling that Matt was very good with computers. "You can sit down if you want," Matt gestured to his bed, which was unmade, before throwing himself down on it and kicking his shoes off. One flew off and hit the door, while Mihael barely dodged being nailed with the other one.

He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, still in awe of Matt's room, which was so very different from his neat and orderly one back at home. "So…" he said, unsure of what to do now, "you've got a lot of siblings."

"More than you know," Matt sighed, and when Mihael gave him a questioning look, he said simply, "Mom and Dad are foster parents. I'm adopted." Mihael stared, completely at a loss for words. Matt sighed again. "See, this is why I avoid telling people about it. They always get all wierded out."

"No," Mihael said quickly, "It's not that I'm um… weirded out or anything, I just uh, wasn't expecting it. I mean you seem so…" Maybe normal wasn't the right word for Matt, "…well-adjusted."

"I wasn't always," Matt flipped onto his back, putting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes as he continued speaking. "I lived with my biological mother until I was seven. My real father died when I was only two, so I don't remember him much. All I remember is that my mother, she didn't do too well after that. Couldn't handle herself, and definitely couldn't handle me. She always had a boyfriend. Some of them were okay, and some of them… not so much. But then one came along, when I was six. He was… he was a bad guy. And let's just say, that when it came to a choice between me and him, my mother chose him. And I ended up in foster care." Matt's face clouded over, and Mihael suddenly remembered earlier that day, _'I don't let people just slip away from me. I can't stand people just up and leaving.' _Mihael didn't dare question what other memories he was reliving. He wanted desperately to ask Matt more. But he was wary; he didn't know anything really, about victims of abuse. He wasn't sure whether asking would hurt Matt, and he didn't want to risk Matt getting angry with him. "I was placed with family after family," he continued, his face still dark, "I was a real angry kid, I guess, and they had trouble getting a family to keep me. And then I came here when I was twelve. Mom and Dad, they were different. They didn't put up with any of my shit, but they loved me. I could tell. They were new at being foster parents and I was the first kid they ever got, and in the end they decided to adopt me. And I've been here ever since."

With his last statement, a tentative smile crossed his face and he opened his eyes, still careful not to look at Mihael.. He concentrated on staring at the ceiling before asking Mihael, "So… do you think I'm some kind of freak now?"

Mihael realized that Matt actually thought he would dislike him or judge him after hearing his story. "No!" he exclaimed quickly. "Of course not. I guess I… I actually sort of admire you. You've been through a lot," he admitted.

Matt broke his staring contest with the ceiling to grin at Mihael. "Really? I'm glad. To be honest, not a whole lot of people know about my past. And I know we don't know each other very well, but… I trust you Mihael. Don't know why."

A question was burning in the back of Mihael's mind, and before he could stop himself, he said, "Do you ever wonder where your Mom is now?"

Matt's eyes narrowed and he returned his harsh gaze to the ceiling. "That woman may have been my mother, but Suzy is my Mom and Jason is my Dad. She gave birth to me, but she also gave me away. Mom and Dad love me with no such obligation. But yes," he admitted, looking almost ashamed, "sometimes I do wonder. I think I might like to see her again someday, if for nothing more than to ask why. Why she didn't choose me."

An awkward, tense silence followed. Mihael, for lack of anything better, said the first thing that came to mind. "So, are all those your adopted brothers and sister that I saw earlier?"

"No, they're all still in the foster care system. They'll stay anywhere from a couple of days to a few years. You never know. I'm the only one that Mom and Dad ever adopted." He seemed slightly relieved that Mihael was taking an interest and continuing the conversation; proof of his acceptance of Matt's past.

"Hmm," Mihael replied. They sat in silence for a few moments, the sounds of yelling children and pots and pans banging downstairs faintly in the background.

"So…," Matt said, "Why is it every conversation we have grinds to a screeching halt, Mihael? You gotta learn to relax around me a bit. We're friends after all." Mihael looked up in surprise at that. Were they friends? Mihael wasn't sure he had ever had a friend quite like Matt. One on hand, it made him insanely happy, that he had met this boy that was so different and so interesting. But on the other hand, it pained him to hear that they were friends. Just friends. He knew Matt had Near, but still, Mihael couldn't quell his little crush on Matt. A crush that he feared was getting worse with every second he spent with the redhead. "Well," said Matt, when Mihael didn't answer his question, "Do you have any questions? Anything you want to say to me? I feel kinda bad. I just sort of ran into your life unannounced and dropped all this on you. I-"

"No!" Mihael finally found his voice, and Matt looked up at him, surprised. "No, don't feel bad. I like… I like being around you." Matt grinned. "Although… I do have a question."

"Shoot."

"Well," Mihael swallowed nervously, unsure of how to phrase it, "I was just wondering… how do you, you know, handle it?"

"Handle what?"

"You know… _it."_

Matt looked genuinely confused. "Being adopted?"

"No! Being… gay." Mihael flushed a deep, dark shade of red.

"I don't."

Mihael had never felt more stupid. Matt wasn't gay! It was so obvious now. Maybe Mihael had heard him wrong the other day or…

"I don't need to 'handle it'," Matt continued. "So what if I'm gay? I'm also red-headed, great with computers and I hate the taste of onions. I'm not anymore defined by being gay than I am by any of those things. They're all just one small part of me. Don't you get it? If I just define myself as gay, I'm cheating myself out of the chance to let people get to know all of the things that make me me. Instead, all they'll see is one tiny, inconsequential thing like I prefer kissing boys over girls."

Mihael was silent. He didn't understand how Matt thought. Being gay was such a huge part of his life, every day the truth weighed down on his chest and he felt guilty all the time. How could Matt be so… okay with it all?

Matt sighed. "I can see you and I are going to have to have a lonnnnggggg talk about this." He looked down at his cell phone. "But not today, little buddy. I've gotta get to work and you've gotta get home. Come on."

Mihael was silent all the way out the door and the entire car ride back to his neighborhood where Matt dropped him off a few streets away so Mother didn't see his car. Being in Matt's house, meeting Matt's family, had opened his eyes. He just wasn't quite sure what to make yet of what he had seen.

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**Please hit me up with some reviews. I know this seemed like filler, but this story is going places. Let me know what you think.**


	8. Experimentation

**Chapter 8 is here you guys!**

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Life settled quickly into a comfortable routine for Mihael. He couldn't have dreamed up something better than Matt; the redhead had become his best friend, his ally, his confidante. A week passed, and then two, and before Mihael even realized it, it had been a whole month since the incident. He had become quite adept at pushing it to the back of his mind, avoiding having to think about it. And Matt's constant presence helped with that as well. In fact, Mihael had little time to think of anything else. His head was filled constantly with Matt; what Matt was doing, how long he would get to see Matt that day, how Matt was feeling. His new-found friend filled every lonely corner of Mihael's life.

Everyday after school, Matt would be outside waiting in his Camero, a cigarette in his hand and a smile on his face. Mihael would jump into the front seat and they would be off. They never had any plans, and spent more time driving around talking about what to do than anything. Occasionally they would go get coffee, or something to eat, but Mihael's favorite days were the ones where they would drive back to Matt's house and just talk. They would wade through the sea of small children and greet Matt's mother, and then spend the next few hours before Matt had to go to work talking about anything and everything under the sun.

Mihael learned more and more about Matt with every conversation they had, and he tucked away each new piece of information like a precious jewel. It made him ridiculously happy to be able to say that he knew so much about this odd boy. He knew that Matt had graduated high school a year early, and was enrolled at a nearby community college. He knew that Matt wanted to work with computers in the gaming industry, but that he also had a secret passion for literature. He knew how much Matt was hurt every time another foster child had to leave the household after he had grown attached, and how difficult it was for him to say goodbye.

They didn't just discuss deeply personal things though. Mihael could have listed any number of trivial bits of information that combined somehow made Matt the unique individual that he was. He could say that Matt was allergic to strawberries, and only drank his coffee black. Matt smoked Camel menthols, and hated Marlboros. He was actually quite talented at drawing, a skill left over from tons of graffiti done during his juvenile delinquent days. And unfortunately, another thing that Mihael learned, was that Matt had a fierce devotion to Near.

Despite Matt's nonchalance and seemingly unconcerned dismissal about the seriousness of their relationship, it was obvious from the way he spoke that he cared a great deal for Near. He didn't talk about him much, but when he did, his eyes lit up in a way that was very rare, and very different from his usual expression. It was at times like those, that jealousy would begin to burn deep in Mihael's stomach and he had to fight to keep a neutral expression on his face. But it always helped to remind himself that Matt was choosing to spend time with him over Near, that somehow, Matt cared for him as well.

And with Matt's help, Mihael was changing. It was slow, but it was happening. He no longer felt as hesitant to voice his thoughts around Matt, although he was still quiet around other people. He could speak to the redhead comfortably, about almost anything. And somehow, though he had thought it might be impossible, Mihael was cautiously coming to grips with his sexuality. Being around Matt made him braver, strong enough to admit to himself what he was. The guilt was still there, especially when he was at home, but it was growing fainter. Although things at home were largely unchanged. He couldn't bring himself to challenge the life he had lived before, and he was still nowhere close to telling Mother and Father that he was gay.

He still had trouble facing Mother. Whenever he was around her, he felt all his new found confidence slipping away. A lecture from her was still as nerve wracking as it always had been. He'd received one just last night, when Mother made known her disapproval of his hair, which was getting long and starting to curl at the edges. But for once, he had made a stand, and refused to cut it. He had decided to grow it long after Matt had made an off-hand comment a few weeks ago, about liking guys with longer hair. Mihael had convinced himself he wanted longer hair, and that this was not all some thinly veiled attempt to maybe one day entice Matt.

But that day was far off in the future, if it existed at all, so for now Mihael was quite content with the way things were. Today in particular, was one of those golden days where they were lounging around Matt's bedroom, doing nothing important, and yet somehow every single moment meant more to Mihael than anything he had done before.

It was a sunny day, the summer heat coming on stronger than ever as the last few days of school approached. Sunlight dotted the floor of Matt's messy room and a stripe of it fell across Mihael's back as he lay on his stomach across Matt's bed, chin resting on his folded arms. Matt sat on the floor next to the open window, taking long drags on a cigarette and blowing the smoke outside. A comfortable, lazy silence stretched between the two boys that Mihael broke by saying, "Hey Matt, I've got kind of a weird question."

"'Kay Mels, than I've got a weird answer," Matt gave him his signature grin, and Mihael felt a wave of happiness wash over him at the use of his nickname. Matt had given it to him nearly three weeks ago, over coffee at a café in one of the parts of town more notorious for having a large gay community than anything else.

"_Chill out, Mihael. You look like you're about to pass out, and I refuse to carry you all the way back to the car."_

"_I'm sorry… I'm just not used to this sort of thing."_

"_What sort of thing? Do you mean having coffee with a gay kid? Ya know Mihael, I'm really offended. And here I thought we were friends and all."_

"_I-what? No, that's not what I meant! I mean, I-"_

"_Calm down! You've gotta learn to take a joke. I was just messin' with ya. You're wound up way too tight. Learn to mellow out a little."_

"_I'm sorry, I just-"_

"_It's okay dude. Like I said, mellow."_

"_Okay. I can do that. I think. Mellow."_

"_Hmmm, ya know… I kinda like that."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Mellow. Mello. That's it, that's what I'm gonna call you from now on."_

"_Mello?"_

"_Yeah, it's nice and ironic, don't ya think?"_

Mihael smiled to himself fondly at the memory, before continuing with his question. "What's it like, kissing a guy?"

Matt frowned in thought, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Oh," he finally answered, "it's not all that different than kissing a girl, I suppose." Mihael studiously avoided eye contact, opting instead to fix his gaze on the wall about three feet from Matt's head. "Well, what did you expect? It's not like the earth stops spinning and little rainbow hearts shoot out of your eyes. It 's just kissing. Although," a far away look that Mihael had come to associate with Near entered Matt's eyes, "If it's the right person, it certainly can feel that way. Why do you ask?"

Mihael shrugged. "Just wondering."

"Well, like I said, it's pretty much the same as kissing anyone else. Unless… Mello, _have_ you ever kissed a girl?"

Mihael flushed. "Maybe. I mean, once or twi… no. Have you?"

"Once. Experimentation. Didn't work out. Boobs just don't do it for me."

"Oh."

"Don't worry," Matt flicked the ashes from his cigarette toward the windowsill. "It'll happen. One day, you'll find a guy worth kissing, and the earth will stop, and you'll get your own little rainbow hearts."

Mihael looked sideways at Matt. _'I already have found him,' _he thought, but then quickly turned his mind to something else. "So," he said, wanting to continue the conversation. He had never been able to talk to anyone freely about being gay before, and reveled in his opportunities to hear more from someone who knew exactly how he felt. "When did you find out you were gay?"

"When did I find out?" Matt snorted a little. "I wouldn't say I just found it. It's not like I woke up one day and thought 'Holy shit! I'm gay!'" He chuckled at the thought. "It's just the way I've always been, so it's not a big deal to me."

"If you knew, then why'd you go out with a girl?"

This time it was Matt's turn to shrug. "Just thought I'd try it. I was young, not as comfortable with myself as I am now. It didn't work out so I did what felt right, and started going out with guys. None of them really got me though, ya know? I was starting to think maybe I was actually just asexual," he laughed, "but then I met Near. I had just turned fifteen and I was still doing a lot of bad shit, even though Mom and Dad had already adopted me. Remember I told you, I was a real angry kid. Near took a lot of that anger out of me."

Mihael could barely keep the burning jealousy he felt out of his face and voice. "So you and Near have been together for almost three years?" That was a long time, unbelievably long to Mihael. Almost three full years; how could he hope to compete with that?

"Yeah, Mels. Almost three years." Mihael picked up instantly on that sadness lingering in Matt's voice, if only because it was such a rare emotion for the redhead to show that it momentarily stunned Mihael.

"Is… Is something wrong, Matt?" he asked hesitantly, terrified that something was indeed wrong and that he would be unable to help.

"It's nothing," Matt glanced away as he Mihael raised a skeptical eyebrow, a gesture he had learned from Matt himself. "Okay," he admitted, "It's just… Near's been sort of weird lately. Like, he's always been kinda shut off in his own world. I'm okay with that, cause I know how to reach him there and I know no matter what, he loves me. But it's getting worse now. He doesn't really talk to me anymore. I know I'm not the smartest guy around, but damn it, I figured he would come to me if something was really bothering him."

Mihael swallowed and stared at Matt. He was more upset than Mihael had ever seen him before. It made him want to punch Near, a just punishment for the look of pain on Matt's face.

"I just don't know what to do," Matt continued, now that he had begun talking about it the words just came spilling forth. "I know when it started, but I don't know how to stop it. It was right after Light was killed. I know he was upset. He wasn't really all that close to Light, to be honest, but seeing how his death affected L has really messed him up. L's his older brother, and it hurts him to know that he can't do anything to make it better. He looks up to L, and I guess seeing his idol break down like this is terrifying for him. But damn it, he won't talk to me about it!" Matt's voice rose to high pitch on the last sentence, and his face twisted into a mask of hurt and confusion.

"I- I'm so sorry, Matt," Mihael stuttered out. "I don't really know what to-"

"No," Matt interrupted him. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, it's just stressing me out, ya know?" He forced a smile. "Let's talk about something else." He thought for a minute and then frowned. "Not to bring it up again, but I just remembered. That was the same night we met you, wasn't it? I not the type to pry, but you never did tell me what you were doing in the street that night."

Mihael went into full-fledged panic mode. He couldn't, absolutely _couldn't,_ tell Matt now. After hearing all that Matt was going through because of Light's death, Mihael couldn't stomach the thought of telling him. He imagined briefly the look on Matt's face if he told him that he was responsible for it all, at least partially. The thought was almost too painful to take.

He forced himself to meet Matt's eyes and smile. "It was nothing," he assured, "Just got lost, that's all."

Matt scrunched his eyebrows. "_That's all?_ Hmmph, and all this time I thought you had some kind of deep, dark secret. How boring." They both laughed, Mihael trying his best to keep the strain from his voice, and Matt doing his best not to think of Near. They were both lying, to themselves and to each other.

Two days later, during Sunday mass, Mihael glanced at Mother, who was praying, eyes shut tight. He folded his hands together so tightly he felt his fingernails draw blood, and he too prayed. He asked forgiveness for Light's death, and for running away, and for lying to Mother and everyone else.

But mostly, he asked for Matt's forgiveness, the one thing he was terrified he would never get.

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**So I know that was all basically one huge conversation, but it was an important one. I'd love to get some feedback. What do you guys think of the story so far?**


	9. A New Look

**For all you guys who keep asking how old Matt is, this little part is for you.**

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Mihael blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected to see Matt, but there he was; wearing torn jeans, puffing on a cigarette, and sitting on the hood of his Camero. He looked so utterly beautiful that Mihael swore he could feel his heart break a little. He quickly tried to squelch the unwelcome feeling by saying the first thing that came to mind. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to go into work early today."

"What, you don't want to spend some time with me?" Matt replied. "I'm hurt, little buddy." He pushed his lips into an exaggerated pout and batted his eyelashes comically at Mihael.

"Don't be stupid," Mihael said quickly. "You know I do. Although I do wish you'd stop calling me that."

"Calling you what?"

"Little buddy. I'm a month older than you, you know."

"Ah," Matt slid off his car and approached Mihael, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "But your soul is young, whereas mine is ancient and wise." He took a final drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and grinding it beneath his combat boot. "So, while biologically, you may be the oldest, spiritually-"

"No," said Mihael, shaking his head. "Just quit while you're ahead, I'm begging you." Matt laughed, and gestured for Mihael to get in the car. Once they were speeding out of the parking lot, Mihael asked, "So really, what's going on? Do you not have to work today?"

"No, I still have to go," Matt responded, "but you're coming with me."

"Really? What for?"

"Because we're going out tomorrow night, and you need some new clothes. I love you Mels, I really do, but I just can't take you out at night looking like that. Which, by the way, where's your uniform?" Matt threw a quick, appraising glance at Mihael's dark blue jeans, and polo shirt.

Mihael looked down at himself. "We don't have to wear our uniforms on Friday." He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Matt sighed, before turning to look Mihael straight in the eye. "Dude… you look gay."

"I am gay."

"No," Matt said, quickly switching lanes before turning his gaze back to Mihael. "I know you're gay, but right now you _look_ gay. There's a difference."

Mihael stared at him. "I don't get it. How are they any different?"

"They're just… they're not the same, okay?"

"So," said Mihael slowly, "You're telling me I look gay, but not in a good way."

"Exactly," Matt smiled.

"So what's the good way?"

"Ya know what, how 'bout we just get you some new clothes and leave it at that?" Matt said in exasperation, even though they both knew he wasn't actually mad.

In no time at all, they had reached the store where Matt worked. Technically, it was a vintage clothing shop, but the way Matt explained it, they sold a bit of everything; all of it one of a kind. It was in a run down shopping center, and paint was peeling off the storefront. The inside was disorderly but not dirty, with merchandise stuffed into every corner.

As they entered, a bell jangled somewhere inside the store, and a kid with black hair, wide eyes, and an even wider grin poked his head up from behind the cash register. "Hey," Matt greeted and held his hand up to catch the ring of keys that the kid threw him.

"Hey Matt," the kid ducked out from behind the counter and passed them on his way to the door. "Thanks for taking the rest of my shift for me. I owe you one. Anyway, gotta run. Catch ya later." The boy exited quickly, leaving Mihael and Matt alone in the shop.

Mihael looked around at the vintage and alternative clothing hanging on the racks, the shoes displayed near the door, the posters and fliers for local bands papering the wall. The store had a dark, edgy feel that suited Matt perfectly. "So this is where you work," he said, looking at Matt.

"Yeah, this is it."

"Where's everyone else?" Mihael looked around again, surprised at the lack of employees.

"It's just me," Matt replied. "It's a small store, and to be honest, we don't get that many customers. Rem, that's the owner, doesn't really expect it to make too much money. She has other businesses that do well, so I think she keeps this place open for fun, and for people like me and Ryuk. That's the guy that just left. She knows how much we need our jobs. She's a nice lady."

"Sounds like it," Mihael murmured. "So if you don't get a lot of customers, what do you do all night while you're here."

Matt shrugged. "Mostly read, ya know, gaming magazines and shit. Sometimes I do my homework for class. But enough about that." He grinned suddenly at Mihael, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let's find you some new threads."

"That reminds me," said Mihael, as Matt immediately stuck his head between the racks of clothes, pulling some things out and tossing them on the counter. "You said we were going out tomorrow night? Where are we going?"

"To a club," Matt responded, shoving a few articles of clothing into Mihael's hands. "It's about time you started living it up a little, man."

"Tomorrow's a Saturday," Mihael said quietly to himself, "What am I supposed to say to Mother?"

"Tell her you're going out with some friends," Matt suggested.

Mihael hadn't really meant for Matt to hear him. "I can't just tell her that," he said. "She'll want to know who I'm going with, and where, and when we'll be back. Besides, there's no way she'd let me go to a club."

Matt straightened up, holding an armful of clothing, and turned to face Mihael. "You're almost eighteen. Gotta cut the umbilical cord sometime. Here." He shoved more clothes into Mihael's already full arms and guided him by the shoulder over to the dressing room. "Try these on. And I want to see what they look like!" he called as Mihael shut the door.

Nearly forty five minutes, and dozens of outfits later (some that he would much rather forget), Mihael stepped out the dressing room.

"That!" Matt exclaimed, dropping his magazine onto the counter. "That is it! Perfect."

"_This?"_ Mihael looked quizzically down at himself. He was wearing tight black skinny jeans, and lace up, sleeveless leather top that had taken him nearly five minutes to figure out.

"Yes, that," Matt responded happily. "And you can wear a pair of my combat boots."

"I look like I robbed an S&M store."

"You look badass," Matt sighed in exasperation. "Don't argue, that's what you're going to wear. You look too good in it not to."

Mihael looked up in surprise. "Really?"

Matt looked him in the eyes. "Really," he assured. At that moment, a ray of the setting sun gleamed through the front windows, falling on Matt and making his red hair glow like flames. His eyes gleamed and he had a small, yet completely happy smile on his face. He looked beautiful. _'I will remember this,' _thought Mihael. _'No matter what happens from now on in my life, this is how I will remember him. Beautiful, with the sun lighting him up and that smile just for me on his face.'_

Suddenly, Mihael couldn't bare the thought of keeping the secret from Matt anymore. He couldn't cause Matt any more pain. He couldn't be the one responsible for ruining that beauty. All of the sudden, words came unbidden to his lips. "Matt, I have something I need to tell you."

Matt cocked his head to the side. "You okay? You know you can tell me anything."

Mihael swallowed nervously. "It's about that night. You know, when I met you? I didn't just get lost, I-"

Suddenly, the bell jangled and two giggling teenage girls entered the store. Matt turned to greet them with a smile, and the moment was lost. By the time the two girls had left, purchases in hand, Mihael no longer had the courage to say it. He went to bed that night with a heavy heart, his guilt stronger than ever as he contemplated what he would say to Mother the following evening, and how in the world he was ever going to be able to tell Matt the truth.

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**Reviews make my tiny little world go round. Let me know what you think!**


	10. Out in the Open

**Get ready for some stuff to go down guys.**

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"Are you sure it's okay for me to go out like this?"

"You look fine," Matt answered in exasperation. "Stop freaking out."

Mihael gave his reflection in the mirror over Matt's dresser another glare. No matter how many times he looked at his reflection he just couldn't get used to it. He looked different, exciting, maybe even a little bit dangerous. He looked like he belonged in Matt's world. But more than anything, he didn't look like _himself._

The black skinny jeans clung tightly to his legs and Matt had loaned him a studded belt to loop around his waist. The leather top didn't meet the top of his pants, exposing several inches of his flat stomach. He had traded in his usual sneakers for a pair of Matt's combat boots. He put a hand against the complicated lacing at the top of the shirt, thinking for the hundredth time that Mother would probably have a heart attack if she saw him like this.

Finally, he tore his eyes away from the mirror and turned to look at Matt, who was sprawled across the bed, feet dangling off the edge. Matt was dressed in his own version of club clothes: a pair of jeans with purposeful rips, a black and white striped, long sleeved shirt, and frayed, fingerless gloves. Mihael wondered for a moment why Matt got to look relatively normal while he was in something that could have been stolen from a male hooker for all he knew. But he didn't bother asking, knowing Matt he would just get some smart-ass reply. Instead he said, "So, this club we're going to… Is it a… I mean to say, is it…"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking if it's a gay club?" Mihael nodded. "I thought about it," Matt continued, "but no, it's not. Just a regular night club for seventeen and up. I could've taken you to a gay club, but as much fun as I'm sure it would be to see your head just explode, I'm not really up for cleaning that particular mess."

Mihael smiled, trying to hide his obvious relief. "My head wouldn't explode," he muttered. "I could handle it."

"Mels, you had trouble just _asking _if we were going to a gay club. But don't sweat it. When you're ready for that kind of stuff, I'll take you, 'kay?"

Mihael nodded, and then looked at Matt questioningly as the redhead suddenly jumped up from his spot on the bed. "I almost forgot!" Matt said, bounding over to his dresser. He yanked open several of the drawers and dug furiously through them, brows furrowed. "I know I put it in here somewhere…" he muttered to himself. "Aha! Found it!" He turned to face Mihael and held out a small plastic bag proudly.

Mihael took it hesitantly and reached inside to pull out one of the most amazing rosaries he had ever seen. The beads were a deep, rich red and the cross was intricate. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked Matt.

Matt grinned at him. "Sure is. I found this morning when I was working at the store and thought it would be perfect for you. Here." He leaned forward and plucked the beads out of Mihael's hand. Then, with no warning, he stepped in close to Mihael and lowered the necklace gently into place around Mihael's neck. Mihael's breath caught in his throat at his sudden proximity to Matt and he breathed in the faintest scent of Matt's shampoo, which smelled like apples. "Do you like it?" Matt lowered his arms but didn't step away, looking Mihael straight in the eyes with an earnest expression.

Mihael rolled one of the red beads between his thumb and forefinger and answered, "Yeah, I love it. Thanks. I needed a new one anyway. I wore my last one out before I met you. Back when I was still trying to pray away the gay." His tone was light and joking, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Matt, and his heart was racing in his chest. He just hoped that Matt couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating.

Matt chuckled. "Did it work?" he asked, and Mihael couldn't decipher his tone. It was joking, but at the same time seemed completely serious.

"Not at all." Mihael was almost whispering now, still unable to break eye contact. His heart was beating so hard he felt sick, and he was sure his face was flushing. Matt's face seemed to mirror his own emotions and ,slowly, he began to lean in closer to Mihael. Mihael almost couldn't believe this was happening. He let his eyes close lightly and brought one hand up to touch Matt hesitantly on the small of his back.

Suddenly, the door bell rang shrilly through the house, interrupting the moment. Mihael yanked his hand away and Matt snapped back, bumping against the open drawers of the dresser. Mihael looked at him, eyes wide with apologies for something he himself couldn't even understand. Matt glanced at the door and said loudly, "That must be Near."

"Near?" Mihael could barely hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah," Matt visibly relaxed at the mention of Near's name. "Yeah, I invited him to come with us. I could've sworn I told you." Mihael shook his head. "I'm sorry," Matt continued. "I just figured, since he's been so distant lately, that maybe tonight we could all have some fun, and maybe Near would warm back up to me. And besides, you two haven't gotten to know each other very well yet. You're the two most important people in my life, ya know? You should be friends."

"Friends, yeah," Mihael muttered.

There was short awkward silence before Matt said, "Well, we should probably go downstairs."

Mihael didn't answer, and instead followed Matt silently down the stairs, trying desperately to sort out his emotions. He couldn't believe he and Matt had almost kissed. Why, _why _did it have to get interrupted? And by Near, of all people.

When Matt finally opened the door, Near looked just as unhappy to see Mihael as Mihael was to see him. For the first time, Mihael noticed that Near was rather on the short side for his age, nearly a head shorter than Matt. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and his hair looked as though it could use a brush.

"Near!" Matt greeted him happily, leaning forward to encircle the smaller teen in his arms and tried to kiss him. Mihael watched the way that Near stiffened under Matt's touch, and saw a look of pain shoot fleetingly across Matt's face before he forced a smile. "Well," he said in a cheerful voice, "You guys both ready? This'll be fun. My two favorite people in the world, what more could a guy ask for?"

"Sure," Mihael and Near both answered, sounding less than thrilled. The two locked gazes, and Mihael felt a shudder go down his spine. Near's odd gray eyes were cold, and seemed to stare right through him. Mihael was paranoid for a moment, thinking that maybe Near could read his thoughts. Whatever it was, he was certain that Near didn't like him. Not at all.

The feeling of being stared into followed Mihael all during the car ride to the club, and through the short walk from where they had parked on a side street to the club's entrance. Matt chatted idly the entire time, trying his best to get a cheerful reaction from either boy, his face falling a bit when they both remained icy.

While they waited in the line snaking around the side of the building, Mihael glanced across the street just to avoid making eye contact with the other two. He noticed groups of well-dressed men and women exiting a doorway across the road, most of them throwing disapproving looks at the people in line for the club.

"Is that," Mihael said incredulously, "a church?"

Matt and Near both looked up in surprise. Matt cocked his head to the side and gazed at the building before saying, "Holy shit, it is! What the hell? Who goes to church on a Saturday night?"

"I just want to know who decided it would be a good idea to have a church across the street from a nightclub," Mihael answered.

Matt shook his head disbelievingly. "Sometimes I don't understand Dallas at all."

And with that small exchange, the ice was broken. The three could talk and laugh together with less awkwardness. However, Mihael still didn't let his guard down around Near. Something about Near troubled him; he just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

The inside of the club was just like Mihael had always imagined a nightclub would be. It was impossibly loud and chaotic, hundreds of bodies rubbing up against each other, bass pounding the walls. It was overwhelming at first, and he had to lean up against a wall, just watching the other partiers, until he could catch his breath and relax.

After they had been inside for twenty minutes or so, just checking the place out, Near disappeared, muttering something vaguely about going to find the bathroom.

"He always does this," Matt confided in Mihael. "He doesn't like to be around so many people." He frowned in thought. "He usually lasts a bit longer though. Most of the time I can get him to dance with me at least once before he runs off."

Mihael made a face, not really wanting to shout to be heard over the music. Then, to his complete surprise, a girl in a short skirt and a glittery tank top approached him and reached a hand out to rest on his chest. "Hey," she said, a hint of flirtation in her voice. "You're pretty cute. You wanna dance?" She smiled coyly at him.

Matt slung an arm around his shoulders and tugged Mihael towards himself, hugging the blonde to his chest. "Sorry," he smiled apologetically at the girl, "he's all mine right now."

She sighed in disappointment and then melted back into the crowd. Matt released his hold around Mihael, and said, "Sorry if that was out of line. I just figured you probably wouldn't wanna dance with her."

"No problem," Mihael responded, a bit dazed from Matt's touch. "I'm grateful, actually."

What Mihael really wanted was to dance with Matt. But he was afraid to broach the subject, especially with Near being in the same building, able to reappear at any time. So he didn't bring it up. Instead he and Matt stayed where they were, nodding in time to the beat. They passed nearly half an hour like that until Matt suddenly announced he needed a cigarette, and made off by himself to find the outdoor patio, leaving Mihael in the darkened room.

Mihael sighed to himself, waiting for Matt to come back, minutes ticking by like hours. He was so absorbed in his thoughts of Matt that he didn't notice when Near appeared as if from nowhere to stand next to him.

"Mihael." He jumped in surprise. It was the first thing that Near had said directly to him all night.

"Near." He wasn't really sure of what to say to the strange teenager.

"Come with me outside. I have something I want to discuss with you," Near said, his voice eerily flat and emotionless.

Instantly, Mihael was confused. What could Near possibly have to discuss with him? They barely knew each other. "Sure, no problem," he replied nervously.

Mihael followed Near out to the front entrance, stepping out into the warm summer night air. The sudden absence of noise made his ears ring as they paced away from the entrance, looking for a little bit of privacy for their conversation.

Near got down to business immediately. "I know," he said bluntly.

Mihael blanched. Knew? Knew about what? About him and Matt? That they had almost kissed? How could he possibly know?

"I know," Near repeated. "I know you had something to do with Light's death."

Mihael could have sworn he felt his heart stop. Immediately he broke into a sweat and he felt sick to his stomach. "W-What?" he stuttered out. "I- I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me," Near said, his gaze like ice. "It's not a coincidence that we found you on the road the same night that Light was murdered, in the same part of town. I still can't figure out exactly what happened, but I know you had something to do with it. You were running away from something that night, don't deny it."

Mihael couldn't speak, his mind was racing, thoughts screaming through his head. He knew! _He knew! HE KNEW!_

Near continued speaking. "I haven't pieced together exactly what happened. That's impossible for me to do, because I wasn't there. _But you were. _Maybe you're the one that killed him, I don't know. But at the very least, you know something about what happened, don't you? What I can't figure out is why you're trying to get so close to Matt. Are you doing this just to fuck with all of us?"

"I- I'm not fucking with you," Mihael said, high voice coming out high and panicked. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't have anything to do with his death. Nothing!"

"Sure," Near said. "Sure you didn't have anything to do with it. Look, why don't you just do everyone a favor and go to the police. Turn yourself in, Mihael. Because if you don't," his eyes flashed menacingly, "I will."

Near turned to walk away, and Mihael choked out the only words he could think of. Words that he regretted the instant they left his lips. "Matt and I kissed!" It was a lie; of course it was lie. But he wanted Near to hurt, wanted to distract him somehow from Mihael's guilt.

"What?" Near turned, and glared at Mihael.

"We kissed," he lied again. "He doesn't love you as much as you think he does." Another lie. "So maybe you should stop trying to protect him by blaming a completely innocent person for Light's death. You think pointing the finger at me will make him feel better? Well it won't, you'll only hurt him more!"

Near didn't respond, a furious look on his face. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out behind them, "Near, Mels! I've been looking all over for you guys! What are you doing out here?"

Mihael turned to greet Matt and Near stalked away angrily, heading away from the nightclub, down the darkened street. "Near?" Matt called, confused. "Where are you going?" He looked questioningly at Mihael.

"He's angry," Mihael said faintly.

"What? Why? Near?" he directed the first two at Mihael and the last one at a quickly retreating Near. He turned, eyes wide, to look at Mihael. "I- I'm really sorry, Mels," he said, sounding close to tears. "But I gotta catch him. I have to know why he's being like this! Why does he keep leaving me?"

"_I don't let people just slip away from me. I can't stand people just up and leaving."_

Matt threw one last glance at Mihael, his eyes overflowing with emotion; fear, hurt, confusion, sadness, guilt, before he turned and ran off to catch Near, leaving Mihael standing alone in the dark, wondering how the hell his life had gone so very wrong.

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**What did you think? Drop me a review and let me know!**


	11. Undone

**Life is just not getting any easier for Mello.**

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Mihael stood there in the street for a long time, the noise of the club behind him fading into the background, staring in vain, hoping to see Matt. But it was no use, he already knew Matt wasn't going to come back. Not for awhile, at least. It had come down to the choice between Mihael and Near, and Matt had chosen Near.

Finally, his heart heavy, Mihael resigned himself to walking to the nearest bus station. For once, life worked out in his favor, and he got there just as a bus was about to leave, climbing the steps in a hurry and taking a seat near the back. It was a long ride back to his side of town and he spent the whole time staring out the window as the passing streetlights made bright blurs against the night, turning his thoughts over and over in his head, getting nowhere. As he thought, large drops of rain began to pelt the bus, hitting the window and collecting, rolling down in fat trails of water. _'Maybe the sky is crying for me,' _he thought miserably.

What the hell had he been thinking? Why did he say that to Near? Near would surely tell Matt, and then… Matt would never speak to him again, he supposed. The thought was too much for him to handle and he buried his face in his hands. How? How had Near figured it out? Maybe he was right; maybe Mihael should just go to the police. Maybe he should go ahead and accept his punishment.

Faces flashed before his eyes; Mother, Father, Near, Matt. This was all too much, too confusing for him to handle. He stumbled blindly off the bus at the correct station, barely noticing the now heavy rainfall that drenched him as he walked the two blocks from the station to his house. He no longer saw the water logged sidewalk in front of him; instead he saw the look on Matt's face when their Near had walked away. The pain.

The house was darkened when he walked up to it. No surprise, it was late; Mother and Father were probably already in bed. He fumbled with the lock and swung the front door open gently, making as little noise as possible.

As it turned out though, it didn't matter. As he made his way through the living room, the lamp next to couch clicked on, revealing his mother sitting, legs crossed, phone in her lap, staring at him. He froze, and a million excuses rushed through his head. He couldn't bring himself to say anything though, just stared at her.

"Well," she began, her voice calm and composed. "Did you have a good time studying at Gevanni's? Although," she said, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "I don't think that's what you'd usually wear to work on a history project, now is it?"

Mihael gulped. He had completely forgotten. His normal clothes were in his backpack… in Matt's bedroom.

"Where were you tonight, Mihael?" she asked, a dangerous edge to her voice. He took a breath but before he could speak she said, "And don't you dare to lie to me."

"I- I was at… I was at a club," he whispered. Something told him lying would not be in his best interest now.

"Oh," she said, her words like ice. "I _know_. You see, I received a very interesting phone call from a friend of mine tonight. She happened to be leaving the Saturday evening service at her church downtown when she saw, to her surprise, _you._ Hanging all over a boy in front of nightclub. She called me right away of course." She held up the phone as proof. "Now tell me," suddenly her voice lost the calm tone, "what you were doing at a place like _that? _"

"I- I was with friends," Mihael answered, feeling like he was about to pass out.

"Is that how you've been spending your time? With these _friends?_ You've been lying to me for weeks, haven't you? I should've known you didn't join a club at school, you've been hanging around with- with some sort of degenerate!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume with every accusation.

For the first time in his life, Mihael raised his voice to his Mother. "He's not a degenerate!" he screamed back. "His name is Matt and he's my best friend!" He couldn't believe he had just yelled- _yelled_- at Mother. It was terrifying, yet at the same time, oddly liberating.

"What is going on with you?" Mother gasped. "You never used to act like this. I can only assume it's because of this Matt. Sneaking around, lying… What else have you been lying to me about?"

And suddenly, without thinking , he said it. "I'm gay, Mother!"

He had said it. He had finally said it.

Mother paled. "What?" She stood, stepping closer to him. "What did you say?"

"I'm gay," he repeated forcefully. "I'm gay. _I'm gay." _The floodgates inside him had opened somehow, and now that he had said it once, he just wanted to scream it. He felt as though a terrible weight had been lifted off his chest, and for the first time in seventeen years, he could breathe properly.

Mother put out a hand. "Stop!" she cried. "Just stop!" Her eyes darted around, finally settling on the address book on the coffee table. "I know! We'll just put a stop to all this right now. I'll call Father Bryan from the church. It's an emergency, he'll come right over. And I'm sure he'll know some good places, rehab centers. You can beat this, Mihael. I know you ca-"

"No."

"What?" She looked at him, desperation in her eyes.

"No," he said again. "I'm not talking to Father Bryan and I'm not going to any sort of… rehab. I'm gay, not addicted to drugs."

"You don't know what you're saying," Mother said with pity. "You've been blinded by this person you think is your friend. But we'll fix this, sweetheart, we will." Her pity was worse than her anger.

"No! We won't fix it! There's nothing to fix! I'm not broken, this is just the way I am! And if you can't accept that, than you can just- can just… fuck off!" The instant he said it, he regretted it. In the space of a second, he wished a thousand times that he could take it back.

Mother's face grew stony, and her gaze was hard. "What did you just say to me?" Her teeth were clenched tight and her eyes flashed.

Mihael swallowed nervously. "I- I'm sorry. I meant to say… I just don't think…"

"I will not be spoken to like that in my own house, by my own son! Leave."

"What?" Mihael was in shock. In all the times he had imagined Mother finding out about his secret, he had prepared for anger, for hurt, for confusion… but not for this. "But-"

"Get out of my house," Mother said, her eyes determined. "I don't know who you are anymore. The only person I want back is my son, Mihael. Not you."

Mihael didn't know what to do. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out and, with one last desperate look at Mother, he turned and fled out the front door and into the rain.

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**Shorter chapter than usual. But I had to end it on the logical closure point. Let me know what you guys thought!**


	12. Desperation

**So... I was going to wait to put this chapter up until next week, but since you guys have been so awesome in your support for this story, I decided to do it early. **

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Mihael found himself, nearly half an hour later, standing in the pouring rain outside of Matt's house, staring up at it. He had started running the moment he was out the front door of his house, dashing blindly, and somehow his feet had led him to Matt.

He walked quickly up the sidewalk to the front door, and before he could think twice about it, raised one hand and knocked heavily on the door. He was soaking wet, and still breathing hard from the exertion of running so far, when a thought struck him. What if Matt wasn't home, and his mother or one of the children answered the door? Or worse what if Matt _was _home, but Near was with him? Mihael didn't think he could stand to face Near. Not now… or ever.

But before he had the chance to chicken out and turn away, the door opened. Matt stood in the entrance, staring at Mihael with a confused look. "Mels…what are you doing here?" His voice was weak, unlike Mihael had ever heard it before. "I- I'm so sorry Mels, I just left you there. But I had to find Near, I had to know why… but then, he wouldn't talk to me and- and, I just, I didn't know what… so I came back here, but no one was home and I-" His voice cracked and Mihael noticed that his eyes were red and raw, like he had been crying. "What… what happened to you Mels? You look awful. And you're soaked."

Mihael stared at Matt silently, taking in the red head's worried expression, and tired eyes and suddenly, without stopping to think about what he was doing, his lips were pressed against Matt's. He felt Matt hesitate, and then begin to kiss him back, hungrily. Mihael barely registered the sound of the door as Matt shoved it closed and then pushed him up against the side of the entry hall. The back of his head hit the wall with a painful thud, but he hardly noticed as Matt deepened the kiss.

Mihael had never kissed anyone before and this experience was exhilarating. Matt's kisses were wild, and passionate, and desperate. A million feelings rushed to Mihael's brain at once, everywhere Matt's hands touched seemed to be on fire. Mihael slid slowly down the wall, until he was half-sitting, half-lying on the tile floor. Matt straddled him and without breaking their kiss, began to slide one hand down towards his pants.

"Matt!" A sudden, loud banging on the door startled both boys, both of them whipping their heads around to stare at the door. "Matt!" came the voice from the other side again. "It's Near! I'm sorry, Matt. I should have talked to you. I just, I didn't… just let me in, Matt. I need to talk to you."

"Near," Matt whispered. "It's Near. He's… What the hell am I doing?" he cried suddenly, jumping up. "I love _Near!_ What was I-" He stopped suddenly and turned towards the door, grabbing the knob and throwing it open.

Near was standing on the other side, as thoroughly drenched by the rain as Mihael. He smiled tentatively at Matt, but then, seeing Mihael sitting on the floor in a state of near-shock, frowned deeply.

"What's he doing here?" he asked Matt, disdain in his voice.

"He just- he just stopped by. That's all, I swear!" Matt was nowhere near his usual calm and easygoing personality. "He's leaving now, right Mels?" Matt looked pointedly at Mihael, who just stared back, unable to process anything at the moment.

"No," Near held out a hand. "No, he should stay; this concerns him as well. Listen Matt," Near was more sincere than Mihael had ever heard him. "I don't care that you two kissed, okay, I just, I can't let him keep lying to you Matt."

Matt's stare whipped between Mihael and Near. "What? How did you know…"

Near sent a frosty gaze towards Mihael. "He told me, earlier, at the club."

"Earlier..." Matt furrowed his brows. "But we didn't… we just… Mels, what the hell is going on?" Matt turned his desperate gaze to Near. "Please tell me what's going on? Why have you been acting like this Near?

Even before Near said it, Mihael knew it was coming. Every thought in his head screamed to shut Near up, in any way he could. But it was too late.

"Mihael had something to do with Light's death," Near had almost no emotion in his voice. It was cold and methodic. "He's been lying to you this entire time. He knows something, and he's been keeping it from you, from everyone. He's a coward and a murderer."

"No!" Mihael sprang to his feet. "No, I'm not! I didn't kill anyone! I just ran! I was scared! What else could I have done? They would have killed me too! I did what I had to do, but I never killed him!"

"You ran?" Matt said slowly, his eyes filling with realization. "You… you were there? You saw it happening and you didn't do _anything?_"

"No," Mihael cried, "I c_ouldn't _do any-"

"You lied to me this whole time?" Matt took a step backwards, away from him. "I can't believe this. I thought… I thought I could trust you. I told you everything, and you kept this from me! You could have stopped this and you didn't!"

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Don't you know how much his death means? How many people it's hurt? L, Near, me… how could you do this to all of us? You could've told anyone, at any point, and maybe they could have caught the guys that did it!"

"Matt," Mihael was on the verge of tears. "Matt, please! I just-"

"Go away," Matt lowered his voice to a near whisper, his face twisted in an ugly emotion. "Just go away and leave me alone, Mihael."

Mihael felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He stared at Matt for a long second, and saw none of the familiarity in his eyes, just revulsion and anger. And for the second time that night, he turned on his heel and ran out the door. As he passed Near, he caught a glimpse of his face. It wasn't smug and gloating, like Mihael thought it would, but his eyes were slightly sad. They seemed to say 'I didn't want this.'

As Mihael ran once again into the wet, rainy night he realized something almost ironic enough to make him laugh in his half crazed state. Of all the things that had happened tonight, the one that made him feel the worst wasn't getting kicked out his house, or the look on Matt's face when he heard the truth; it was the pain he had felt when he heard Matt call him Mihael once again.

He stood, a few blocks from Matt's house, unsure of what to do now. He had nowhere to go. His house was no good, and Matt was his only close friend. And then slowly, an idea dawned on him. An idea that made him feel sick to his stomach, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew he had to do it.

He made his way to the nearest bus station and waited patiently for the bus that would take him to the city police department.

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**What do you think of it?**


	13. Sweet Misery

**Oh man... you guys are gonna hate me...**

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The police didn't arrest him.

Looking back later, he realized there was no way that they would. Legally, he hadn't really done anything wrong. His only real crime was that of cowardice. They simply listened to his story, asked him questions, and then a young cop with weary eyes gave him a stern lecture about the dangers of withholding important information.

As it turned out, the information he gave them didn't really matter. He could tell them nothing that would lead them to suspects, only a vague description of the two men as his fear-addled brain remembered them. The case was no closer to being solved than when he walked in the door. Mihael's life however, was a different story. Everything he had worked for, built over the years, his careful defenses, his perfect son façade, had all come crashing down around his ears in the space of a few hours.

By the time he was done at the police station, it was well past three in the morning. The police had kindly called Mother, and even though Mihael had doubts about whether she actually come to pick him up, she did come. The car ride home was filled by a tension-thickened silence, Mother's face stony and unreadable as she stared straight ahead at the road, never once glancing over to him. Mihael just counted himself lucky that Father was on a business trip. It would be at least twenty four hours before he had to deal with his reaction.

But much to his surprise, as soon as they were back inside the house, Mother proposed a deal to him. She wouldn't tell Father anything that had happened that weekend, not about the police, or the club, or Mihael's outburst. And in exchange Mihael would toe the line, and it went without saying that he was never to see Matt again.

He would have fought against it, found some way to sneak out to see Matt… except that he knew there would be no point. Matt didn't want to see him, and the weeks that followed made that painfully clear. Mother drove him to and from school for the last few weeks of class, watching him as he walked inside the building. After the first week, Mihael no longer looked anxiously across the parking lot for a red Camero. He knew he wouldn't find it, yet every time Matt wasn't there it hurt a little more.

His cell phone was silent. The first few days after that horrible night, Mihael had kept the phone gripped in his hand, volume turned all the way up, jerking every time he thought he felt it vibrate. But Matt never called or texted. Matt, it seemed, wanted nothing to do with him.

He was just as alone as he had been before he met Matt, yet somehow now it was a thousand times worse. He missed Matt so much it hurt, a constant, hollow ache in his chest.

One Sunday evening Mihael lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, doing his best to blank out his thoughts, when a sudden tap on his window made him bolt up. Two more taps followed in quick succession and Mihael ran over to the window and threw it open, eagerly sticking his head out and looking around.

And just as he had been hoping it would be, Matt was standing outside, one hand full of rocks, and the other about to release the next one.

"Matt!" Mihael whispered as loudly as he could, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. "Matt! You have no idea how crazy everything's been. I have to tell you everything and-"

"Mihael," Matt looked up at him, speaking quietly, his tone flat. "Can you come down here? I need to talk to you."

"Yes, of course! Just give me a second." Mihael ducked back inside his room and made his way down the stairs, tiptoeing past Mother in the kitchen and slipping quietly out the back door. He went quickly to the side of the house and found Matt.

He had been dreaming about it for weeks, but seeing Matt here, in front of him, was almost too much. He could barely restrain himself from throwing his arms around Matt, wanting to squeeze him tightly and never let go. He had hoped against hope that Matt would forgive him and Mihael was prepared to do everything in his power to make that happen.

"Matt, I'm so sorry," he began earnestly. "I don't know what I was thinking back then. I was scared and stupid and I- I just don't know. But I want to fix everything. I want us to be friends again." He looked at Matt, hope in his eyes.

Matt met his gaze for a second and then looked down at the ground. "Mihael, I'm leaving."

"You're… what?" He couldn't comprehend what Matt was saying.

"I'm leaving. L's decided to move, maybe L.A. or something like that. He says it's too painful to be here. And their parents said Near could go with him and I… I'm going with Near. I can start up at a community college out there. I already told Mom and Dad. They don't like it, but they understand why I have to go."

"You… you can't just- just leave!" Mihael felt sick. This wasn't how their meeting was supposed to go. Matt couldn't be leaving, he just couldn't. "What about your family?"

_What about me?_

"Like I said, they know I have to go. I just… I can't be here anymore. It's just, it's too much Mihael. I was this close, _this close, _to hurting Near. I can't stay here and risk that happening again."

"But I'm sorry!" Mihael couldn't keep his voice down. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I swear! And I went to the police, I told them everything! Please! Please don't go!"

"I'm sorry," Matt murmured. "I would have really liked this to work out. You were honestly one of the best friends I've ever had in my life, Mihael. I hate that it turned out this way, but you lied to me. You lied to me since the moment we meant, and you didn't stop until someone called you out on it."

Mihael felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "Matt…"

"That's it," said Matt. "I just came to tell you that I'm leaving. I thought you at least deserved to know that. Do me a favor and don't try to find me or call me. I'm having my number changed." With that he met Mihael's gaze. Matt's eyes were cold and no matter how desperately Mihael searched, he could none of the Matt he knew in them. "Have a nice life, Mihael." Matt turned to walk away.

Mihael stared after him, and then, as they usually did, words came without him really thinking about it. "I don't let people just slip away from me! I can't stand people just up and leaving! You're the one who said that aren't you? You fucking hypocrite!"

Mihael saw Matt hesitate, saw the way his shoulders stiffened as though he were going to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he hung his head and quickened his pace. Long after he had heard Matt's car pull away, Mihael stayed standing there in the side yard. Finally, when the tears had stopped flowing, he made his way automatically back to the house. He saw Mother puff up indignantly when he came in the back door, not bothering to sneak, but for once, when she saw his red-rimmed and tired eyes, she didn't say anything. She just let him continue up to his bedroom, where he lay face down on his bed, mind completely blank, until morning came.

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**Go ahead, pour out your anger upon me in the form of reviews.**


	14. Chapter 14

__**Okay, so... after consideration, the original ending to this story was a crappy cop-out. I didn't know how to finish it, so I wrote that ending. However, I was quite unhappy with it, so I've been working on a new ending. It's a few chapters longer than the original. If anyone is interested and wants to see the original ending, just PM me. So here it is, the continuation of Can't Be Saved.**

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_What the hell am I doing here?_

The thought crossed Mihael's mind for the thousandth time since he had gotten off the bus near Matt's house. But no matter how many times he asked that particular question, there was still no easy answer. What _was _he doing here, lurking outside of Matt's house like some kind of sad stalker? He honestly had no clue.

But then again, he hadn't had a clue what was he doing for months. Control of his life had been taken away and given to… Matt? Mother? Some vague cosmic force? All he knew was that he hadn't been in control for a long time. Not since that stupid, stupid night when he had made the worst decision of his life. And the fucked up thing was, he couldn't even wish it hadn't happened. Because if Light hadn't died, if he hadn't made those stupid, stupid mistakes… then he never would have met Matt. And even now, with all the shit that had gone down between them, he still couldn't make himself feel sorry for knowing Matt.

"Mihael?"

"Hmm?" He was quickly brought back to the present by the sound of light, feminine voice.

"Why are you standing outside? Did you ring the doorbell? I didn't hear anything." It was Matt's mother. He had been so deep in thought he hadn't even noticed the front door opening. She was wearing jeans and t shirt, car keys in hand, and her hair was done up in a messy ponytail. And judging from her demeanor, Matt probably hadn't told her about what had happened between them. Mihael wasn't surprised. Matt didn't seem like the type to burden others with his problems.

"I just… came to return some clothes. You know, before he leaves and all." He held out a plastic bag that contained the clothes he had borrowed from Matt's closet what seemed like forever ago. It was as good an excuse as any.

"How thoughtful of you," she replied with a friendly smile. "Matt's not home at the moment but he should be along fairly soon. I have to go pick Misa up from school, but I can let you in if you'd like. You can wait for him inside."

"Oh, well I… are you sure?" Mihael was hesitant. He was already taking a huge risk today. Taking the bus to Matt's while Mother was at the dentist. It had been a split second decision and he hadn't thought it through at all. And while part of him- a huge part of him- wanted to see Matt, another, more vocal part of him knew it could only end badly.

"Of course." Matt's mother chuckled and went to open the front door. "You know, I haven't seen you over for dinner in awhile. Is school keeping you busy?"

"Something like that," Mihael murmured.

"Well, you've got to take a break sometimes and come and see us. I'm counting on you to make sure Matt still comes to see us once every few weeks for dinner once he moves!" She laughed lightly.

Mihael's brow furrowed. "Won't that be kind of difficult? Los Angeles is pretty far away?"

"Los Angeles?" Matt's mother tilted her head in confusion. "Matt's not moving to Los Angeles. He's moving up to those apartments off the highway. They're only about twenty minutes away."

"I… must have heard wrong."

She smiled and patted him on the back. "Don't worry. In my experience, most teenage boys only hear about seventy five percent of what's said to them. Matt's always had terribly selective hearing when it comes to chores, if I recall correctly." Mihael forced out a strained laugh. He felt sick. Why had Matt lied about moving?

"Make yourself at home," Matt's mother called as she headed back outside. "Matt should be home soon."

"Thanks," he murmured as the door closed, bathing him in the peaceful silence of the empty house. The inside of Mihael's head was anything but silent. Thoughts were running through a mile a minute, and there was a roaring in his ears. Why had Matt lied? It seemed like the more Mihael tried to repair his mistakes, the more his life fell down around him.

He made his way up the stairs and to Matt's room on autopilot, still consumed by his thoughts. The sight of Matt's once-familiar room stopped him as memories came rushing back. And in that moment he realized exactly what he had lost. Up until then, all he had been able to think about every night as he lay awake in his lonely room in Mother's house, was about Matt and how much he missed him. But now, standing in the same room where he finally began to be able to come to terms with who he was, he realized that what he missed even more was Matt's friendship. That closeness was something he had never known before Matt, so he had never realized what he was missing. But now that he had had a taste of it, he desperately wanted it back.

He sat heavily on the bed and put his face in his hands. When had it all gotten so thoroughly messed up? He could just feel tears beginning to prick the corner of his eyes when suddenly the front door slammed. He jumped up, panicked. All this time, and he still hadn't thought about exactly what he would say to Matt? What could he say?

_Take me back._ That's what he wanted to say. _Take me back. Be my friend again. I don't care if you hate me for a hundred years. If I'm patient enough, the hate will go away and you'll be my best friend again._

But of course, he was too much of a coward to ever say what he really felt.

Footsteps on the stairs. Mihael swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and wiped nervous sweat from his hands on the front of his jeans. This was it. He was going to tell Matt how he really felt this time. But then, an unwelcome voice reached his ears from the hallway.

"So, you told him we're moving to L.A.?" It was Near.

Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit. Mihael had prepared himself mentally enough to talk to Matt, but Near threw a wrench in the proceedings. Mihael panicked and made a split second decision. Bounding to the closet door, he threw it open and threw himself inside, before closing it quickly; leaving it cracked only enough to hear what was going on inside the room. He groaned inwardly. _Coward, _he accused himself, sitting in the dark, hugging his knees to his chest. A hanger dug into his back uncomfortably. _You're a fucking coward. And a ridiculous one too. Hiding in a freaking closet._

"Yeah." Matt's voice. Mihael felt his stomach leap into his throat at the sound.

"More lying?"

"Seemed like the best idea at the time." There was a slightly creak of bedsprings as someone sat down.

"Don't you think there's been enough secrets around here for the time being?" Near's voice was cold, the way Mihael was used to hearing it. Nothing like the impassioned outburst the night he and Matt had kissed.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore," Matt sounded tired. "I don't want to talk about _him_ anymore. In a few weeks, we'll move and it'll be over."

"Will it?"

"Huh?"

Near's words were methodical. "Will it ever be over? I don't think you'll ever be done with him. Not like this." He didn't sound hurt, just observant.

Matt groaned loudly. "What the fuck, Near. I said it's done, and I meant it. Just… come here." The sound of a second person sitting on the bed, and then- Mihael squirmed unhappily- the unmistakable sound of two people kissing. Much to his relief, this only lasted for a few moments.

"I'm going home."

"What?" Matt sounded genuinely upset. "What is this- Are you still upset about… Look I said I was sorry. I've said it a hundred times. I'm sorry."

Near sighed. "I think we'll all sorry about the last few weeks, Matt. Forgiveness is a difficult thing. You, of all people, should know that." Mihael heard Matt exhale in frustration as the door clicked open and shut, but- he noticed- the redhead made no move to follow Near out.

In fact, Mihael was so busy thinking about what he had just overheard, that he didn't take notice of the approaching footsteps. A bright strip of light hit his eyes as the closet door opened, momentarily blinding him.

"Shit!" He flung up a hand in vain as the image of a half shocked, half angry Matt came swimming into view.

"What the fuck?" Matt took a deep breath, seeming to try and calm himself. "What the fuck are you doing in my closet, Mihael?" Irrationally, the use of his real name stung him. Just another reminder that their friendship was in ruins.

"I um.. I was-"

Matt cut him off immediately. "I don't care. Get up."

"But-"

"Get up and leave my house. I thought I made it quite clear, I am done with you. Leave me alone."

Mihael stood, and tried to meet Matt's eyes, hoping to see something- anything-, but the once-familiar green eyes seemed to only hold anger. He had almost reached the bedroom door, when a thought struck him. He turned, eyes trained on the ground. "Can I… have a ride home? Mother doesn't know I've left, and I need to get home before she does and… it would just…"

Matt inhaled sharply through his nostrils. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I will give you a ride home, and in exchange you will listen to me, and stay the fuck out of my life."

Matt's words stung, but at least Mihael's ploy to extend their time had worked, as pathetic as it was.

"So…" The red Camaro was halfway to his house by the time Mihael managed to work up the voice to say anything. His words hung in the air, Matt's stony silence their only answer. "You lied to me," he blurted out suddenly.

Matt didn't hesitate. "And you lied to me. For months."

Mihael swallowed. There was nothing he could really say to that.

"Look," Matt continued, as cars and houses zoomed by outside the car's open windows. "Just stop. Don't you get it? I don't want to be your friend anymore. You fucked that up."

"I didn't mean to."

"But somehow you still did."

"But what about forgiveness? You're upset that Near still hasn't forgiven you for kissing me. The least you could do is not be such a fucking hypocrite."

Matt laughed, but it was cold and calculated. "Really? You think listening in on my conversations and turning them back on me is the way back into my heart? You're a real piece of work, Mihael. I mean, seriously-"

"Shit." Mihael interrupted Matt's tirade as they turned down his street and his house slid into view in the windshield. It was Mother. As Matt slid his Camaro next to the curb, Mother was climbing out of her own car. Mihael didn't even have to look; he could feel her anger from where he sat.

"Shit," he said, quieter this time. It was either sit in the car and face Matt's anger, or go outside and face Mother's. Sadly, he knew which one would probably hurt less. "Thanks for the ride," he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the passenger door.

"Mihael!" Mother's angry voice greeted him as soon as he stepped out of the car. Her normally pretty face was red with indignation. "What have you been doing?! We had an agreement. You were never to see this… degenerate again!" She pointed an accusatory finger at Matt's open window. Mihael closed his eyes in resignation. He wished Matt would just hurry up and drive away. At least he could be spared the humiliation of being screamed at in front of him. But then to Mihael's surpise…

"Excuse me?" Matt sounded more indignant than Mihael had ever heard him. Mihael's eyes snapped open as he heard the click of the car door opening. Matt stepped out onto the lawn and approached Mother. "Degenerate?"

"You," Mother seemed to momentarily forget Mihael and focused her energies on Matt instead. "You are what's wrong with my son. You and your filthy lifestyle."

"Me?" Matt's eyes blazed dangerously. "Me? Listen up lady, there is absolutely _nothing _wrong with me. I'm gay. It's who I am. It's not a 'filthy lifestyle'. And as for your son? Yeah, there's a lot wrong with him, but _I'm _not it. And neither is being gay. In fact," Matt seemed to be picking up steam and all Mihael could do was watch in a strange mix of terror and fascination, "I think what's wrong with him is _you._ You and your archaic values and gender expectations. Just because someone doesn't fit into life the way you think they should, they're automatically disgusting and worthless? That's bullshit and I have spent too much of my life dealing with it to have to hear from someone who doesn't even know me."

Mother seemed to have lost her words for a moment. Bu that was okay, it seemed Matt's little tirade was over.

"Come on." Matt gestured to the car.

"Huh?" Mihael said in confusion.

"Get in the car, Mello. Let's go. I wouldn't wish this kind of bigotry on my worst enemy." Matt gave Mother a last scathing look and ducked behind the wheel of the car. Mihael moved on autopilot, shock blanketing his senses. Only one thought penetrated his mind as he slid back into the passenger seat, leaving an astonished Mother on the front lawn.

_Mello. He called me Mello._

* * *

**Reviews? I've been away for awhile and I'm afraid my writing has gotten a bit rusty. **_  
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